


Lonely

by TheManOfManyFandoms



Series: DreamSMP Angst and Comfort [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Abusive Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Wilbur Soot, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Separation Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Toby Smith | Tubbo Misses TommyInnit, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Misses Toby Smith | Tubbo, Tommyinnit needs a hug, Touch-Starved, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), i'm going to give smp tommy nice things if it kills me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 44,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManOfManyFandoms/pseuds/TheManOfManyFandoms
Summary: Phil finds Tommy in exile and resolves to rescue him.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Ranboo, Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Alexis | Quackity & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Floris | Fundy & Phil Watson, Floris | Fundy & Technoblade, Floris | Fundy & TommyInnit, GeorgeNotFound & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: DreamSMP Angst and Comfort [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052576
Comments: 1803
Kudos: 4721





	1. Missing Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy breaks down, when Phil comes to visit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was started before Dec. 15 so this is a completely AU version of Tommy getting out of exile.  
> EDIT: hey! I forgot to mention that anything that could be a trigger warning is in the tags!

Something is very wrong with Tommy. Phil knows very well that it would have been nothing short of a miracle for Tommy to handle his exile with anything less than grief. Despite this, something had felt undeniably _wrong_ , when Phil had visited him.

The usually loud and excitable teen had been much too quiet and anxious looking. He had glanced nervously at Dream every time he answered one of Phil's questions, which had been concerning in and of itself. What truly had sent off red flags in Phil's mind, however, had been when he had asked about the teen's lack of armor. Dream had put a firm hand on Tommy's shoulder and said calmly that the boy felt safe enough without it. Tommy had shrunk back, but agreed without argument.

Phil honestly feels ashamed that it's taken him so long to come back and pay Tommy another visit. He had been prompted by Ranboo scathingly telling him that it was clear he favored one child over the other two. Even Techno had flinched guiltily at that. Phil had resolved to visit Tommy as soon as possible.

This time, he comes at night, hoping that Tommy will be alone and away from Dream. It's raining, when he arrives and he's glad that Tommy has, at least, some semblance of a roof over his head. When he ducks down to look into the tent, he sees Tommy curled up on his makeshift bed, clutching a glowing compass to his chest; eyes shut much too tightly for him to be asleep.

Phil clears his throat to announce his presence and is almost startled, when Tommy flinches. "Sorry, Dream, sorry," the teen mutters tiredly, sitting up in bed and leaning down, presumably to tug off his diamond boots, though Phil can't imagine why.

"Uh, it's me, actually, Tommy. Dream's not here," Phil explains, feeling almost awkward.

Tommy's head snaps up and he almost drops his compass, in an effort to get to his feet hastily. "Da- Phil?" His voice is quiet and fragile; no longer loud and endearingly obnoxious. He stares at Phil with a look of, almost childish, wonder and awe.

"Yeah, it's me, kiddo," Phil says gently, holding out his arms in a silent offer. Tommy very carefully sets his compass on the bed, before turning and walking closer to Phil. He stares into Phil's face for a tense moment, as if searching for something. Whatever it had been, he must have found it, because he dives into Phil's arms, shoulders shaking slightly.

"You- you're real, right? I'm not dreaming, or- or hallucinating?" Tommy asks, sounding scared.

"I promise you, Tommy, I'm very real," Phil hugs him tighter.

"I missed you," Tommy whispers into Phil's shoulder, breath hitching audibly.

"I missed you too," Phil murmurs back.

After a very long moment, Phil begins to pull away. He's stopped short, by too-thin hands desperately grabbing at his arm. "Don't go away!" Tommy bursts out, eyes wide and teary, "I'm sorry if I did something wrong, just please don't leave." He looks so vulnerable and distraught and it breaks Phil's heart.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Phil says hastily, "Easy there, bud, I'm not going anywhere. Why don't we sit somewhere more comfortable, hm?" Phil grabs Tommy's hand, giving him the gentle contact he clearly needs.

Tommy nods silently and allows Phil to sit on the bed and softly tug Tommy down to sit next to him. Letting go of the teen's hand, he, instead, wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in close. Tommy curls himself into Phil's side, being, for once, unashamedly clingy. "I'm so lonely, Dadza," Tommy whispers, a note of deep sadness, in his voice that makes Phil's heart clench.

"I know, kiddo. I'm not going to let you be alone anymore," Phil says softly.

"I miss my friends," Tommy's voice breaks and he buries his face in Phil's shoulder. After a moment, where Tommy tries to control himself, he bursts into loud, harsh sobs. The boy sounds absolutely _devestated_ and Phil nearly joins in the tears at the heart-breaking sound.

"I-" Tommy gasps for breath, as he tries to speak through his tears, "I- j-just wanna go h-home. Da-d, please l-let me go- go home."

"I'll do my best, I promise you, Tommy. I'm sure Tubbo would let you. He misses you a lot," Phil says, turning slightly to stroke Tommy's hair comfortingly.

"N-no he doesn't. Tu-Tubbo hates me," Tommy chokes out,

"He loves you so much, Tommy. He regrets exiling you, I know it. He never lets go of that compass of his and he hasn't looked right since you've been gone," Phil says solemnly.

"Really?" Tommy asks, looking up slightly, voice small and hopeful.

"Really," Phil confirms.

"D-Dream told me that Tubbo threw the compass away," Tommy admits tentatively, "Did- Did he lie?"

Phil purses his lips. "Yes, he lied, Tommy. I'm not a fan of how that man has been treating you," he adds disapprovingly.

Tommy sniffles loudly, clearly trying to get his tears under control. "He's been the only one to stay with me. And he's nice... sometimes. He let me keep my armor the other day," Tommy pulls back slightly, and Phil looks into his sad, not-blue-enough eyes.

"What do you mean, he 'let you keep' it?" Phil questions suspiciously.

Tommy lowers his gaze, "He's been making me give him anything valuable every morning and blowing it up. He says it's to help me, but," Tommy breaks off mid-sentence, biting his lip nervously.

"But it doesn't seem fair, huh?" Phil guesses gently, trying to push back the anger he feels towards Dream. Tommy shakes his head silently, looking almost scared at the admission. "Toms, I don't think Dream is good for you. He's not treating you right."

"He-" Tommy looks frustrated, "I know! But it's not like he hits me," Phil levels him with a _look_ , "...much," Tommy adds relunctantly.

Phil feels his fury with Dream rising with every detail Tommy gives him, but he forces himself not to reveal it, even in a tense shoulder, to Tommy. "It's not like I'm fragile!" Tommy's saying, "I've had- I've had worse and it's not llike Dream hits me when I don't deserve-." Perhaps realizing that an argument like that isn't helping his case, Tommy falls abruptly silent.

Phil reconsiders that reasoning for the sudden end to Tommy's ramblings, when he hears a low, dangerous, "Tommy?" from outside of the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed! Every kudos, comment, and bookmark helps me one step further on my quest to locate and fight god. Thank you all for reading!


	2. Too Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy’s second visitor of the night pushes too far.

Tommy jerks away from Phil immediately, almost tripping over his own feet in his effort to get off of the bed and away from both men. “Well, look who _finally_ decided to visit you,” a man, with a mask, wearing a blank smile, drawls, as he steps fully into the tent, sounding bored, “Some father he is. It took him, what? A month?”

Tommy looks back and forth anxiously between Phil and Dream, looking as if his world had been tilted. “Tommy,” Phil sighs, “I’m very sorry about not visiting you sooner, but I’m not going to leave you alone anymore. I promise.”

Tommy bites his lip anxiously, staring fixedly at the ground below Dream’s feet. “I don’t want to pry into your conversations or anything, but I _am_ curious to hear what you were saying about me. I just caught my name a few times,” Dream says, voice softer now, though a hint of danger still lingers. Phil wants to rip his mask off and shove it down his lying throat. 

“I-I was just-” Tommy stutters, stumbling over his words anxiously, “I was just saying that I m-missed L’Manburg and I wished you’d let me v-vist some time, Big D.” The teen gives a nervous smile that doesn’t meet his eyes.

”Come on, now,” Dream says, voice lower again. He sounds almost disappointed. All Phil can feel for the man is disgust and hatred. “What did I tell you about lying, Tommy?” Tommy flinches at that, stumbling back a few more steps. He still won’t meet anyone’s eyes. Phil stands up behind Dream, ready to jump in whenever he’s needed. “I want you to look at me Tommy,” Dream snaps. Tommy’s head flies up, eyes wide and scared. “And I want you to tell me the _truth_. Now.”

“I don’t...” Tommy’s eyes slide sideways, staring desperately at Philza instead. Dream snaps his fingers in front of the teen’s face and Tommy jumps, turning his head to face the green man. “He asked me if you ever hit me,” the now-grey-eyed boy whispers, “and I said yes.”

”Tommy,” Dream sighs, “You’re trying to paint me in a bad light. You’re being selfish, as always. You know I only ever do things that might seem mean to help you.” Phil watches in sickening fascination. He wants nothing more than to stab Dream through the back. A much more deserving target than the last man who had been given that treatment. 

Tommy drops his head, muttering, “Yeah, I know. You’re- you’re a good friend, Dream. My _best_ friend. I’m sorry for d-doubting that and being selfish.”

Dream reaches out a hand, grabbing Tommy’s chin and yanking his face up to stare into the man’s emotionless mask. If he had been about to say something more, nobody would ever hear it. Phil’s patience had been tried one too many times in the last five minutes. This demeaning act (and done so casually) had pushed his already simmering anger over the edge. Before he even knew what he was doing he had already punched Dream in the side of the head.

Dream curses loudly, releasing Tommy and whirling around to face Phil. “I’m sorry, Dream. I don’t think Tommy’s going to be staying with you any longer,” Phil’s mouth is set in a grim line.

”I don’t think that’s for you to decide,” Dream says; faux-calm in his voice, as he grasps at his crumpled mask, which had been jostled from the punch. “Poor little Tom wants to stay with me. Don’t you, Tommy?” he adds, voice sharpening dangerously.

Tommy hesitates for a long moment, hands wandering up to tug at his hair anxiously. “Dream’s my friend,” he mutters, seemingly to himself, “But he’s unfair and mean and everyone said that it was bad when Wilbur did it, so why would it be different. But nobody else has visited. But- but- but...” the teen is practically hyperventilating now, a few desperate tears slipping down his face.

”C’mon, Tommy. You’ll be safe with me, I promise,” Phil says gently, holding a hand out to the boy.

Very quickly, as if he wants to get it over with, before he thinks too hard, Tommy steps over to Phil and grabs at his arm with both hands. The little of Dream’s face that is visible contorts in blind rage at the action. “You’re making a fucking mistake, Tommy,” he spits.

”I...” Tommy swallows hard, “I don’t want to stay with- with you anymore, dickhead.” He glowers, as well as he can, and Phil feels a rush of pride for his son.

”Nobody on this fucking planet cares about you, TommyInnit. Nobody but me,” Dream’s yelling now, visibly trembling with fury. “You can go ahead and run if you want to, but no matter who you stay with, they won’t be fucking _gentle_ with you. I treat you this way to make you better. They’ll treat you worse than this, for no other reason than that they hate you.” In his anger, he clearly doesn’t notice Phil’s hand, inching closer and closer to the sword strapped to his hip.

Dream curses in frustration, bringing both shaking hands up to adjust his still-crooked mask. Phil takes the chance and dives forward, stabbing Dream straight through the middle, with the sword that he had been subtly retrieving during the green man’s furious rant. All of the air leaves the man at once and, for a moment, he splutters in confusion, anger, and pain. And then, he’s gone in a cloud of smoke that leaves behind the stench of rotting flesh.

”You- you killed him,” Tommy says blankly, staring at the spot where Dream had been standing. The boy barks out a laugh that sounds almost like a sob. “You fuckin’ killed Big D himself! I mean, he'll be back soon enough, but you killed him! I guess old people _can_ be badass.” And suddenly the teen is laughing so hysterically that he falls to the ground, unable to support his own weight. 

Phil picks him up gently and Tommy clings to his father’s chest, laughing and sobbing all at once, tears pouring down his face in two little rivers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he babbles into Phil’s shirt, hysterical giggles still forcing their way out of him.

”It’s okay, mate, it’s okay,” Phil rubs Tommy’s back comfortingly, as the boy sobs.

”It’s no-t funny a-at all. Wh-why am I la-laughing? Am I going crazy and shit?” He laughs even harder at these words, body convulsing with both laughter and tears.

”No, of course not,” Phil says gently, “You’ve gone through a lot in the last few weeks, bud. You’re just letting it out in the only way your body knows how. You’ll probably feel better after.”

They stay like that for what might have been either ten minutes or an hour. Either way, Tommy, eventually, pulls back, scrubbing at his eyes. "So, what now?" He questions, voice hoarse.

"I'd say we should get somewhere safe. I've been staying with Techno and Dream won't be able to find us there," Phil suggests.

Tommy's face crumples into a scowl, "Do we- do we have to stay with _him_?"

"It's the safest place for us right now, Toms," Phil explains, smiling grimly.

"Fine," Tommy bites out, "Anywhere's better than this shit hole."

"We should probably set off at once. Do you have any valuables out of your ender chest?" Tommy darts to the glowing compass on his bed and clutches it to himself for a brief moment, before setting it gingerly in his ender chest. It's placed in between, what looks like, a stack of photographs on one side and a stack of discs on the other.

"Anything you want to say goodbye to?" Phil asks, as Tommy closes the chest. The boy shakes his head mutely and the two walk, side-by-side, away from Logstedshire and its aura of dull pain and towards what would, hopefully, be the beginning of some much needed healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! I'm actually really pleased with this chapter annd I hope you all are too. Thank you guys so much for the support on this fic by the way, it's very poggers of you all. Your comments mean a lot to me, and the feedback definitely helps me stay motivated to write more. :)
> 
> Every kudos, comment, and bookmark brings me one step closer to immortality. Thank you for your aid.


	3. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy’s first day staying with Techno is extremely tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: There will be a LOT of swearing in this chapter because  
> 1: It’s Tommy  
> 2: It’s me  
> And this chapter will somewhat showcase the effects of abuse which is kinda the point of the fic, but I just wanted to say something in case anyone’s uncomfortable with it. I guess it’s kinda too late this far into the fic, but I might as well. :) 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

By the time they arrive at Technoblade’s cabin in the middle of the tundra, Tommy seems practically dead on his feet. Phil can’t blame him. It’s been a long night and the sun is peeking over the horizon by the time Phil lets them both into the house.

Techno’s there, rummaging through his chests and muttering aloud to himself. “Hey, Tech,” Phil says, an obviously forced lightness in his tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tommy draw himself up, clearly trying to seem less exhausted.

”Oh, hey, Phil,” Techno shuts the lid of his chest, before turning around. “Where were you all ni-“ he stops short, “Um. Why is there a child in my house?”

”Yeah, fuck you too, bitch,” Tommy snarls, clearly using all of the ferocity he could muster.

”You look like shit, Theseus,” Techno shoots back, glaring at his little brother. Tommy flinches at the nickname and Phil decides that he needs to cut this argument early.

”Okay, boys,” he says hastily, in his most pacifying tone. “How about Tommy and I get some sleep and we’ll explain in a few hours?” He suggests hopefully.

Techno hesitates, studying Tommy closely. for a long moment. The teen shrinks into himself at the scrutiny. “Fine,” Techno says shortly, “Bullyin’ him when he can’t fight back is no fun anyways.” 

”Oi, dickhead!” Tommy shouts, clearly offended by the piglin hybrid’s dismissive tone, “I can still fight you. Fucking watch me, bitch!” With that he charges at Techno with all the grace of a threatened deer. Barely even blinking, Techno catches Tommy around the middle and easily keeps the boy at arm’s reach. Something like panic flashes in Tommy’s eyes and suddenly he’s scrambling to be released. Techno releases him, backing away with something akin to worry in his eyes.

”That,” Tommy pants, “That was only because I’m tired.” He’s trembling slightly and Phil doesn’t think it’s from the cold.

”C’mon, Toms,” Phil says gently, putting an arm around Tommy’s shoulders. “I think there’s an extra bed upstairs. We can work on getting you your own room soon enough.” 

Techno shoots him a disgruntled look from behind Tommy’s back. Phil mouths ‘ _I’ll explain later_ ,’ at him. Techno rolls his eyes, but seems to accept this answer. 

It doesn’t take long for Tommy to fall asleep once he lays down and, for the first time since before being exiled, he looks almost peaceful, sprawled out on the spare bed. Phil quietly walks back down the creaking, wooden staircase to find Techno standing exactly where he had left him. “Explain,” the younger man says firmly.

Phil sighs deeply, sitting down heavily at a seat in front of the window. “I should have visited him sooner, Techno,” he says quietly, burying his face in his hands. Techno gingerly sits down next to him and just listens. Phil tells Techno everything. He tells him about Tommy’s newfound skittishness; about Tommy’s breakdown; about Dream’s interruption and the way he had treated Tommy;about killing Dream (this earns a snarl of satisfaction from the hybrid.) When he finally runs out of things to tell, he falls silent and waits for Techno’s response.

Techno’s staring at the floor, face passive other than the slight movement of his lips, as he mumbles softly to himself. “I want to kill him too,” he says suddenly, voice lowered in a growl. “ _I can’t do it_ now, _chat_ ,” he mutters, in response to an unheard demand. “That explains why he looked so... fucked up,” Techno laughs humorlessly.

”You agree that we can’t leave him again,” Phil checks.

”Of course,” there’s a note of genuine emotion in the pink-haired man’s voice that Phil hasn’t heard in a long time. “It’s probably going to be a while before he trusts us, you know that, right?” 

”Yeah, yeah, I know. I hope he knows that he’s safe here,” Phil bites his lip nervously, a bad habit shared by both Techno and Tommy.

”I’m not sure if you noticed, but Tommy and I aren’t exactly on the best terms,” Techno says dryly, “I doubt he’ll trust _me_ anytime soon. _You_ he might not mind so much, but it’s probably best if I stay out of his way.”

”Absolutely not,” Phil says instantly, “The only way he’ll ever trust you is if you make an effort to be with him. I’m not letting this family drift apart again.”

”The last time I tried to get along with my brothers, one of them fucking _died_ , Phil,” Techno snaps, getting to his feet agitatedly, “I’m bad news for _everybody_. Hell, I probably shouldn’t even let _you_ so close.” He tugs at his hair anxiously, another bad habit; this one shared by all three of Phil’s sons. 

”Techno,” Phil says, trying to inject calmness into his voice, “Techno, it’s alright. Wil- Wilbur didn’t die because of you, alright? It’s okay to get close to people, Tech. Especially your family.” 

Techno nods shortly. “I need to think for a while. Alone,” and with that, he tugs a cape over his shoulders, straps an axe to his belt, and marches out into the snow.

—————

A few hours later, Tommy comes thumping loudly down the stairs, startling Phil out of the sleep he had apparently fallen into. Techno gives him a half-smile from where he’s sitting at the table, reading a thick book. Tommy seems to remember where he is, as he suddenly freezes at the bottom of the staircase. After a moment of looking back and forth between Techno, who’s eyes are fixed determinedly on his book, and Phil, who gives him a reassuring smile, he clears his throat and mutters, “Uh... ‘ow do?”

”Fine. Just readin’,” Techno grunts out. Perhaps it’s the fact that the long-haired man sounds about as awkward as Tommy, but the teen seems to gain confidence from the response. He flops himself into a chair opposite Techno and just stares at him for a long moment.

When Techno starts to fidget nervously, Phil calls out, “D’you want some breakfast, Toms?” 

Tommy turns to face Phil rapidly, eyes wide and almost wary. “Yes,” he answers hastily, looking, for all the world, as if he’s worried Phil’s going to say that the offer was nothing more than a joke. 

It’s not the largest breakfast, but Tommy attacks it with fervor. It almost seems like he’s afraid of someone taking it away from him, before he can finish. “Stop eating like that” Techno mutters, barely looking up from his book. He sounds irritated, but Phil knows he's just concerned.

Tommy, on the other hand, clearly does _not_ know that. He freezes mid-chew, backing away from his plate a little. “Sorry,” he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper, “I shouldn’t- I mean, I won’t waste your food.”

Techno curses under his breath. “I didn’t mean it like- like _that_ ,” he fumbles awkwardly, “I just meant that you should slow down a little, so you don’t, uh, choke.”

“Oh,” Tommy says blankly. “Sorry,” he mutters again. It’s a long moment, before he touches his plate again and, when he finally does, all of his wariness seems to have come back tenfold. He finishes off his food quickly enough and shoves away his plate, getting to his feet, as he does so.

Drawing himself up to his full height, fear and stubborn determination warring on his face, he clears his throat before saying roughly, “So. What now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! If you did, I’d love to hear from you in the comments! All of your comments are definitely the highlights of my day! :)


	4. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy struggles to remember that the things Dream did to him weren’t normal.

Techno and Phil glance at each other, both unsure of what to say. In the past, the silence could be counted on to be broken by Tommy, but the boy in question just waits quietly, with an uncharacteristic patience. “Do you have any armor, Tommy? Or tools?” Phil asks finally, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind.

Oddly enough, Tommy’s face immediately crumples in disappointment. “Oh,” he mumbles, sitting back down heavily. “Just- just these boots and a netherite pickaxe in my ender chest,” he says, clearly trying to inject a non-existent confidence into his words. “I forgot. Sorry.” He leans down to tug off his diamond boots, much as he had the night before, when he had thought that Phil was Dream. 

”Tommy?” Phil asks, voicing both his and Techno’s confusion, “What’re you doing, kiddo? You don’t have to take them off.” Behind Tommy, Techno not-so-subtly peeks over the top of his book, brow furrowed in concern.

Tommy freezes, one boot half off. “I’m... not doing anything,” he says, with a laugh that’s clearly forced. “It was stupid. I just thought... Just ignore it... please,” he gives Phil a pleading look, as he trails off awkwardly.

Phil hesitates, unsure whether or not to push the matter, but Tommy’s hands are visibly shaking and his eyes are begging silently. With a worried sigh, he decides to drop it. “Alright, so we should probably get you a full set of armor and a full tool set,” Phil suggests, “You need more than boots out here. This place is pretty mob infested.”

Tommy hesitates, fiddling nervously with his torn shirt sleeve. “How about before we go for armor we get him actual clothes,” Techno points out, finally setting down his book, “The kid’s going to freeze to death in that.”

Tommy turns to glare at his brother. “I was fine last night, bitch,” he snaps, “I’m not _weak_.”

Techno sighs, rolling his eyes, “I’m not sayin’ that you’re _weak_ , Tommy. I’m sayin’ that you’re human. You’re not invincible, as much as you’d like to believe you are. You were probably runnin’ on adrenaline last night after everythin’ that happened.”

”And what would _you_ know about that? You don’t know shit about the things that have happened, since I was- since I started living in Logstedshire,” Tommy spits, all defensive anger and thinly veiled fear.

Techno levels Tommy with a look that makes the younger shrink back slightly. “I don’t know _everythin_ ’, but I know enough,” the piglin hybrid shrugs.

Tommy whirls around to face Phil, a betrayed and slightly hurt look on his face. “What did you tell him?” Despite the clear attempt to sound angry, the only emotion injected into his words is a deep anxiety.

“I just told him how lonely you’ve been and how badly I think Dream’s been treating you,” Phil explains, refusing to feel guilty. He had _had_ to tell Techno and he has enough to feel guilty about, without adding _this_ to the list.

Tommy deflates slightly, though he looks worried. “Dream was my friend, though,” he mutters, sounding sad, “He was my friend, but... I think he was just there to- to _watch_ _me_ ,” he spits out the last words, sounding simultaneously horrified and furious. He pauses, staring blankly at the fire, as if he had only just realized this fact. 

”Alright, that’s enough of that. We are _not_ going to sit here stewin’ in depressing thoughts all day,” Techno says sharply after a few minutes of silence, scraping back his chair and getting to his feet. He places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder to get his attention and the boy flinches back. Techno removes his hand hastily, “You can borrow some of my clothes for now, so you can help me with my turtles without getting frostbite.”

”I can collect the honey from the bees, while you two do that,” Phil offers, “I won’t be too far away,” he adds, when Tommy looks at him, an alarmed expression on his face. He wants his boys to spend time together again, but, at the same time, he wants to be close enough, so that he’ll hear if anything goes wrong.

————— 

Something in Techno’s heart seizes, when Tommy exits the cabin and trudges through the snow, towards the turtle farm. He looks much, much too small, in the temporary clothing. They’re certainly the right length for him, but it’s glaringly apparent how unhealthily skinny Tommy has become, since Techno had last seen him. As if sensing Techno’s thoughts, Tommy self-consciously wraps the cape he’s been given tighter around himself.

“Alright, Theseus, d’you know how to collect Scutes from turtles?” The piglin questions, turning away, so he doesn’t have to see the consequences of the exile he hadn’t tried to help his brother out of. _You laughed at him_ , a voice supplies accusingly. It’s all Techno can do not to wince. More voices join in, as if sensing his inner turmoil. _You laughed. You laughed. You laughed. You-_

”No,” Tommy mumbles, interrupting the screaming voices, sounding much more unsure of himself now than he had in the cabin. 

Shaking himself slightly, Techno launches into an explanation of what to do. The familiar actions, as he demonstrates, help to calm the nerves that have been making his fingers tremble slightly all day. Once Tommy figures out what to do, he joins in and the two work in a, surprisingly comfortable, silence for a while. The silence is snapped like a fallen branch, when Tommy takes a step back and accidentally smashes one of the turtle eggs.

The teen sucks in an audible breath, as Techno levels him with an irritated glare. “Really, Tommy? Are you _that_ clumsy?”

”I-I’m sorry,” Tommy stammers out, eyes wide and nervous. Techno, forgetting for a moment, Phil’s warnings to be careful with Tommy, grabs his forearm to drag him away from the remaining eggs. The boy flinches hard and, the moment Techno releases him, he backs away hastily, looking terrified. 

”Tommy?” Techno says carefully.

Tommy shakes his head frantically, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me, you can take whatever you want, I promise. You- you probably want the cape back, right?” He had already begun to take off the cape, before he was even done talking.

”Why would I want the cape?” Techno questions, truly confused. _This is Dream’s fault_ _._ There are so many voices yelling in righteous anger. It almost makes Techno feel dizzy.

”B-because I fucked up,” Tommy says, as if it should have been obvious. His breathing is shallow and much too rapid, “You were- you were generous to give this to me and I- I fucked up so I don’t d-deserve it.” He curses in frustration, as he fumbles with the clasp that secures the cape around him, hands shaking too hard to undo it.

_Help him. Help him. Don’t let him keep thinking like that._ “I need you to slow down, Tommy,” Techno says cautiously, holding his hands up, in an attempt to look non-threatening, “You don’t have to give me back the cape, okay?”

Tommy’s hands fall from where they had been tugging frantically to get the cape off. “Then what?” He asks distrustfully, “Do you want my boots? My pickaxe? The emerald Phil gave me a while back?”

”I don’t want to take _anything_ from you, Tommy,” Techno speaks slowly, trying to determine what should be said. To Techno’s horror, Tommy’s lip begins to tremble and a few quiet tears slip down his cheeks. The last thing the pink-haired man knows how to deal with, is crying children. One particularly rational voice calls over the rest: _Get Phil_. “Phil!” He calls urgently, hoping that the man could hear him. In the meantime, he inches closer to Tommy, hating the way the boy jerks away from his hands. 

”Please, just... get it over with,” the boy whispers, head hanging; his whole body is trembling like a leaf in a rainstorm, “It hurts worse when it’s dragged out.”

”When _what’s_ dragged out?” Techno questions impatiently. He think he knows what it is that Tommy’s speaking of, but he hopes desperately that he’s wrong.

“Just fucking hit me already,” Tommy snaps, glaring and cowering all at the same time. 

Techno thanks any deity that might be listening, when Phil comes around the corner of the cabin at that moment. “Dad,” he breathes desperately, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness washing over him and leaving him gasping for air.

”What’s wrong, Tech?” Phil asks, looking between Techno and Tommy, his brow furrowed in concern.

”He made a mistake and now he’s- he’s...” Techno gestures helplessly at Tommy’s trembling form. Techno takes a few steps back, as Phil steps between the two and begins to talk gently and quietly to Tommy. The voices are a screaming whirlwind of anger and concern. It makes Techno want to cover his ears and hide like he did as a child.

It’s an unbearably long amount of time, before Tommy calms down and, when he does, he won’t meet either of their eyes, looking both anxious and extremely ashamed. “Techno, are _you_ alright?” Phil asks and Techno jolts. He hadn’t realized that he had been standing, frozen, staring at Tommy.

”I’m fine,” he snaps, “I need to- I’m going to go get some food for later. I think we’re running out.” His excuse is flimsy at best, but Phil seems to accept it. Without another word, Techno walks, a little too quickly, into the surrounding forest. The feeling of helplessness from earlier is flooding his chest again, making his heart pound. He doesn’t stop walking. The swirling mixture of fury at Dream, for what he’s done to Tommy, and the suffocating feeling of uselessness nearly threaten to make Techno feel sick.

Instead, he just screams. It’s a scream fueled by grief and rage and does next to nothing to help him. He continues to wander aimlessly, cutting down enemy mobs and ones that can make food, as one. He doesn’t return to the cabin, until late that night and can’t decide if he’s glad or disappointed that Tommy is already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t mean to add Techno angst to mix, but here we are lmao.  
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! All of the support this fic has gotten means the world to me! I honestly didn’t think anyone would see this lmao. Anyway, if you liked the chapter don’t hesitate to comment and throw some opinions at me! I absolutely love reading your comments! :)


	5. Precious Trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno is exhausted and Tommy is a racoon. The two don't mix well.

Things are tense, when Tommy and Phil wake up the next morning. Techno’s already awake and eating breakfast, when the other two stumble down the staircase, with varying levels of sleepiness. Tommy sits down across from him, much as he had the day before, though he won’t make eye contact this time.

Before Phil can start making breakfast, Techno informs him that he had already made breakfast for the two. “It’s over by the furnaces,” he points with one hand and not-so-subtly stifles a yawn with the other.

“Techno, did you sleep at all last night?” Phil questions, as he collects the plates of food, looking suspicious. 

Techno just shrugs. “Maybe about an hour,” he mutters, applying himself diligently to his food, in a valiant attempt to get out of the conversation.

Phil frowns at him, as he takes a seat. “I think some of us need to have a bit of a talk about taking care of ourselves,” he says pointedly.

Tommy sniggers quietly, when Techno groans. “Big, bad Technoblade’s in _trouble_ ,” he says in a sing-song voice.

”Shut up, gremlin child,” Techno snaps, no heat behind the words. Tommy _does_ shut up though, which should probably be a bit worrying, but Techno’s too tired to care.

The three eat breakfast quickly, in a tense, oppressive silence and Techno’s glad, when Tommy mutters something about needing to organize his ender chest, darting off before anyone can respond. Phil gives him another frown and Techno groans, laying his head down on his arms and muttering, “Well, get it over with.”

Phil launches into a lecture, which is rather too kindly and gentle to be considered a lecture, but Techno’s feeling too upset with the world to care. He feels his eyes slip shut, as Phil talks and he can’t help but wonder about Tommy’s strange behavior, which can’t all be explained away by the information Phil had given him.

—————

It’s a while later, when Tommy hears a shout from down below, “Has anyone seen a stack of golden apples?” Tommy sucks in a quick breath, shifting a few of the photographs so that they cover the apples at the bottom of his ender chest. Quickly, he places his compass over the lot and shuts the lid of the chest. Just in time too, because at that moment, he hears Techno start to climb up the stairs. 

”Tommy, have you seen a stack of my golden apples? I can’t seem to find it.” Techno doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Tommy’s heart rate picks up all the same. Dream had been good at hiding his anger too. The teen stares up at the older man, from where he’s seated on the floor and can’t help, but to think how easily Techno could make him hurt, if he wanted to.

”I haven’t seen your stupid fucking gapples,” Tommy snaps, a little too defensively to sound convincing. He looks away from Techno’s face, unable to make eye contact, and tries to look anywhere but at his ender chest.

”You know where they are,” Techno says, an accusing undertone to his words.

”I _don’t_ ,” Tommy says stubbornly, lifting his chin defiantly. He doesn’t know _why_ he doesn’t just tell Techno the truth. Lying only ever made things worse, but, than again, he _needs_ those gapples and Techno will certainly take them away.

”Are they in your ender chest, Tommy?” Techno demands, monotone voice a little more biting this time.

The teen flinches at the perceptive comment, biting his lip. “No,” he grinds out, wincing as Techno takes a few steps closer.

”Well, if they’re not there, then open it and show me. It shouldn’t be a problem,” Techno points out. Tommy’s hands shake, as he lifts them to the lock on the chest. “What’s the matter, Theseus? I thought there was nothin’ important in there,” Techno’s voice is smug and Tommy _hates_ him for it.

At least Dream wouldn’t have played stupid mind games like this. He would have just smacked Tommy around a bit and taken his armor. Tommy can deal with that. He can’t deal with this weird, false kindness Phil and Techno have been treating him with. It puts him on edge, constantly waiting for the dam to break and for one of them to show their true feelings. Dream had _said_ that everybody hates him and Tommy knows it hadn’t been a lie.

The people he trusts just don't stick around. That much is obvious now. The one constant in every broken relationship has been Tommy. Eret had been the first to go and had been the easiest to pretend that it hadn’t been Tommy’s fault. After that it was Fundy and Wilbur and Technoblade and, finally, Tubbo. That had been the breaking point. After that Tommy couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He pushes away anyone he ever loved just by being the annoying piece of shit that was apparently his entire personality.

At least Dream never lied to him. Not the way everyone else did.

Tommy unlatches the chest and swings the lid back, fingers still trembling. Techno peers down, into the chest, and Tommy’s arm twitches, as he fights against the instinctual need to gather up the precious, precious things in the chest and hide them from the man looming over him. “I can see them under the rest of the junk in there,” Techno says, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

”It’s not ‘junk’, dickhead!” Tommy snarls, rage bubbling in his chest at the dismissive words. 

”Whatever you say, Toms,” Techno shrugs, “Just give me my gapples back.”

Tommy gathers up the gapples and, standing, shoves them viciously into Techno’s arms. “Don’t call me that. You have no _fucking_ right,” he glowers angrily. 

”Yeah, whatever,” Techno snorts, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that _you_ don’t have any right to steal other people’s property?”

Tommy’s pulse spikes again. “Look, I-I’m sorry. I needed... I _wanted_ them,” he curses himself for tripping over his words. Dream hated it, when he stuttered.

Techno suddenly lets out a noise of exclamation, “Heh? Are those my invisibility potions that went missing?” He digs them out of the chest, before turning to glower at Tommy. “How would you like to go through _your_ chests and realize important things are missing?”

Tommy swallows hard, heart sinking into his stomach. Dream used to loot his chests occasionally, but never his ender chest. Techno reaches into the chest again and grabs the compass, eyeing it’s battered edges critically. “Seriously, why do you have junk in your ender chest?”

White hot, blinding rage and panic washes over Tommy and, before he realizes what he’s doing, he nearly tackles Techno to the floor, in an attempt to get the compass out of his hands. “Don’t touch that!” He shrieks, forcefully ripping it out of Techno’s hands and hugging it to his own chest. 

Techno looks downright _murderous_ now and Tommy takes a few hasty steps back, whole body trembling. Eyes darting from Techno to the contents of the chest and back again, Tommy weighs his options. Before he can stop himself he shoots forward and snatches up the stack of photographs as well. “Take whatever the fuck you want from me, but I’ll fucking kill you if you touch these,” Tommy bites out, trying to sound much braver than he feels and only having mild success.

"Boys?" Phil calls out, from downstairs, "What's going on up there?"

"Tommy stole my shit and he threw a tantrum, when I dared to put a finger on the trash in his ender chest," Techno's harsh words are dripping with sarcasm and Tommy flinches automatically.

When Phil appears at the top of the staircase, Tommy feels his chest tighten in terror. He's completely trapped now and he knows that he'd rather get the shit beaten out of him than give up the old, wrinkled photos and the gently glowing compass.

Phil takes a few steps towards him, but Tommy stumbles hastily backwards. "You can't take these," he says, voice coming out much more desperate than he had been aiming for. "I'm- I'm sorry I stole from you, but please don't touch these."

"Tommy? What are those?" Phil asks. He sounds calm, but surely he's just as angry as Techno.

"They're all I have left," Tommy whispers, voice breaking, as tears brim in his eyes, "Pl-please don't take them from me."

"We're not going to take anything from you, Tommy," Phil says slowly. It's something they've said a lot in the past few days, but Tommy just doesn't _understand_. He staggers back a few more steps, squeezing his eyes shut, when he hits the wall. Breath hitching, he slides down, until he's sitting, precious remnants of the past still clutched tightly to his chest.

Shoulders shaking, he bites back a sob. “Please stop lying to me,” he chokes out, drawing his knees up to his chest. He can’t breath anymore and he takes a few shuddering gasps, trying to draw in air. He can feel the corners of the photos he’s clutching crumpling, but he can’t find it in himself to care. All that matters is protecting the only pieces of Tubbo he has left.

He jumps, when a hand touches his shoulder, but something about it is a comfort. “-eath with me, Tommy,” he hears a surprisingly gentle voice saying, “Breath with me, alright?” It takes a long moment, but, after following the man’s breathing for a while, Tommy feels like he’s back under control of his own limbs.

”You with me, kid?” Tommy gapes, when he sees not Phil, but Techno kneeling in front of him. 

”I’m okay,” he mutters, “I’m sorry for being so annoying and fucking everything up.”

”You didn’t fuck anythin’ up, Theseus. I should have known to not be so harsh,” Techno squeezes Tommy’s shoulder and, for once, instead of feeling threatening it feels comforting.

Phil sits on the floor next to Tommy and, instead of the suffocating feeling of being trapped from earlier, he feels safe and protected. The older man holds his arms out invitingly and Tommy gratefully falls into him sideways. Phil wraps an arm around the boy and rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. “If you’re feeling calmer now, maybe you can show us your pictures.” 

Tommy takes a deep breath, but nods. “Yes,” he says finally, “I think I might like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, hello, hi. This chapter is why I wrote this fic in the first place lmao. I really hope you all enjoyed! I’d love to hear from you all in the comments :)  
> [Also big pog to Tubbo for it being his birthday!]


	6. Photographs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy shows Phil and Techno his pictures and an emotional breakdown ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s quite a bit of unplanned cussing near the end of this one lmao. Just a warning to all of you BBH stans out there XD.  
> 

The first thing Tommy does, is set his compass down on the floor next to him. He shoots a quick glance at Techno, clearly not quite trusting him to not try and grab it. Techno, however, is very pointedly looking away from the compass and Phil can see Tommy trying to push past the instinctive panic. 

The teen gathers the photos into a neat stack and, after taking a deep breath, says, “They-they’re in order, starting with the oldest.”

The first picture he pulls out is of a younger looking Tommy and Tubbo, standing together on a beach that Phil recognizes, as being on the outskirts of L’Manburg. Tubbo has his arms wrapped around Tommy from behind, a playful grin on his face. The Tommy in the picture is clearly fighting a smile. “Wilbur took that one,” Tommy offers, “It was in the middle of the drug war, I think.”

Phil glances up at Techno, surprised to see an intensely fond look in his eyes. The next picture is of Tubbo, Tommy, Wilbur, and another person, who Phil thinks might be Eret. There’s a large, violently scribbled, red X drawn through their face. “This was taken at the beginning of the War for Independence,” Tommy explains, “Fundy took this one, I think.” He frowns suddenly, “Do you think Fundy was upset with how much we excluded him? Being excluded fucking sucks...”

”I think he might have been,” Techno speaks up suddenly, “That was probably why he initially sided with Schlatt after the election.”

Tommy looks down, biting his lip anxiously, “I wouldn’t exclude him anymore, if- if I could be there.”

”I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Phil assures, “What’s the next one?” He tries to get Tommy onto another, happier, topic.

The next picture had clearly been taken outside of Tubbo’s house in Old L’Manburg. He’s wearing pigtails and an extremely unamused expression. Tommy laughs wetly, swiping at his eyes, “He was so pissed off at us. He was complaining about his hair getting in his face, so Wilbur put it up for him. I took this one,” he adds, as an afterthought, a look of longing on his face.

The next one is a very sweet picture of Tubbo standing in a field of dandelions, a blinding smile on his face and a bee on his finger. Tommy’s sitting behind him, an extremely fond smile resting on his face. “I don’t remember who took this one,” Tommy says, in a quiet voice, breath hitching slightly, “It might have been Niki, I dunno.” He sets this one aside quickly, taking a quick breath, before picking up the next.

This one is a hastily taken picture of Tubbo, in a crumpled suit. There are tears rolling down his face in the picture and an old tear-stain can be seen on the photo. “There’s a, uh, a message on the back,” Tommy explains, “Tubbo took this and had Eret deliver it to us right after the election. She helped to run messages back and forth for us during the Pogtopia days.”

”What’s in the message?” Phil asks, curiosity getting the most of him.

”Just- just him saying how much he missed me and how- how badly Schlatt was treating him,” Tommy says, voice soft, “This one looks a bit worse for the wear, I guess, I kept it with me for a long time, before Tubbo was able to join Pogtopia full time.” Now that Tommy mentions it, Phil can see where the corners had been crumpled and the picture had faded, no doubt with too much exposure to the elements.

”That was right before I came here, right?” Techno checks, voice unusually gentle.

”Yeah, pretty much,” Tommy agrees. “Speaking of which,” he grinds out, as he pulls out the next picture. It’s honestly quite a sad picture of Tubbo and Tommy clinging to each other, as if they’ll be ripped in two if they let go. They both look a mess, clothes dirty and wrinkled. Tubbo has clearly been sobbing for a long while and Tommy looks furious. “Niki took this right after you _murdered_ Tubbo,” Tommy hisses.

Techno sighs, face tightening, “Look, Tommy. I really _am_ sorry about that. There were just...” he sucks in a breath, “There were so many people watchin’ and I- I panicked.”

Tommy pauses, in the middle of gearing up for a rant. Seemingly, unconsciously, he leans his head on Phil’s shoulder, as he stares intently at Techno. “I get that,” he mumbles finally, “Panicking- panicking isn’t fun. I won’t ever forgive you,” he adds, voice serious, “But I get it.” Shaking his head quickly, he sits back up and grabs the next photo in the pile.

This one clearly captures another happy moment. Quackity, Niki, Tubbo, Tommy, Fundy, and Wilbur all seem to be playing cards in a dimly lit room. Quackity is halfway out of his chair, head thrown back, in a hysterical laugh. Niki is clearly laughing just as hard, face buried in her hands. Tubbo and Tommy seem to be shouting at each other, though both are grinning, and the picture had been taken right as Tommy had thrown his cards at Tubbo’s face. Wilbur has an arm around Fundy’s shoulders and the fox hybrid is clearly hiding a grin.

Tommy smiles sadly, as he stares at the photograph. “I forgot that you took this one, Techno,” he admits.

”You all were being ridiculous, so I had to capture the moment for blackmail,” Techno says, rolling his eyes. 

Phil notices that there are only four pictures left now. Tommy seems cautious to look at any of them. “I don’t know who took this one,” he says, voice nearly a whisper, as he holds up the next photo for them all to look at. It depicts Tommy laying against the wall of a stone cave, fast asleep. He doesn’t look peaceful, even in sleep. Next to him, his head on the blonde’s lap, is Tubbo, who is also clearly asleep.

”I did,” Techno says, after a long silence, his voice nearly as quiet as Tommy’s had been. 

”What?” Tommy seems shocked, staring at Techno, with wide eyes and an open mouth.

”It was the night before the 16th,” Techno says, by way of explanation, “It was the last night of tentative peace. I needed to capture something... pure.”

”Because you knew you were going to help ruin our lives the next day?” Tommy’s voice isn’t furious and hot, like it normally is. It’s resigned and frigid. It’s as if he’s trying to convince himself that he isn’t upset. Phil squeezes his shoulder slightly, in a, probably poor, attempt at comfort.

Techno meets Tommy’s disappointed gaze unflinchingly, though the man almost looks guilty, “I warned you all. None of you can say that I wasn’t up front about what I wanted.”

”You always seemed like you were half joking,” Tommy shoots back, without as much heat, as he probably would have liked, “It’s hard to tell, when you never have any emotion in your voice.”

“It’s safer that way, isn’t it?” Techno says, shrugging, “Look where being emotional got Wilbur. Look where it got _you_.”

Tommy swallows thickly. “You sound like Tubbo,” he says, voice thick with unshed tears, “That’s- before he- before he sent me away, he told me that we were all thinking emotionally and he decided to think logically. And the-“ his voice really does break then and he has to take a moment, before he can speak again.

“And the logical thing to do was to ‘remove the liability’ in the country.” Techno stares blankly at Tommy and it’s only because Phil knows him so well that he can tell that he seems extremely worried. “ _I_ was the liability, Techno. _I_ was the liability, because I played a fucking prank that went wrong. _I_ was the liability, because I would have chosen my best friend over the whole **_fucking_** world and I was stupid enough to think that he would do the same for me.”

He gets to his feet agitatedly then, dropping the remaining pictures in the process. “But that’s my fucking fault, isn’t it? For thinking _emotionally_. Well, _fuck me_ , I guess. Because I should have known by then that I’m a fucking _unlovable_ bastard. Everybody else knew it. Wilbur did, _you_ did, and apparently Tubbo did too. I didn’t see _you,_ Phil, for _years_ , before you came to the SMP. For my brothers, of course. Not me. Never me. You came to reign Wilbur in and to keep Techno company, but stupid, asshole, TommyInnit doesn’t _deserve_ company, does he?”

Phil can feel nauseating, swirling guilt in his stomach and, by the trapped expression on Techno’s face, the piglin hybrid is feeling the same. It’s true that Phil hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Tommy, in both the years before joining this world and, especially, afterwards.  
  
“And where were _any_ of you,” Tommy continues, in a broken voice, “when I was sleeping outside in the _fucking_ cold, because Dream said that I didn’t deserve a blanket that day? I almost _froze_ to death and the only person in the whole world, who came to warm me up was my goddamn cow. And you know what? I almost wish that I _had_ died that night.”

Phil sucks in a breath at the same time that Techno calmly says, “Tommy, you don’t mean that.”

By the horrified look on Tommy’s face he had, at the very least, not meant to say it out loud. Which, Phil reflects, is not a very comforting thought. “Tommy,” he begins, his own voice cracking, “I’m so sorry for how you’ve been treated by everyone. We haven’t treated you nearly well enough and I’ll regret it every day for the rest of my life. Let us try to make it up to you.” Tommy shakes his head slightly, backing away from the both of them, looking stricken.

”I- I’ll be back, I promise,” he stammers, “I need space.” And with that, he practically flies out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

Phil and Techno stare at the last three pictures in silence, neither wanting to break the fragile air. The first photo, is of Tubbo and Tommy staring into the crater of Old L’Manburg. Tommy had clearly been crying and Tubbo looks grim and very sad.

The second, was Tommy, Ranboo, and Tubbo all standing next to each other. Ranboo is standing in between the two, looking slightly awkward. Tommy looks anxious and upset, despite his wide, shit-eating grin. Tubbo is staring blankly at the camera, face set in determination and eyes devastatingly sad. The whole photo screams that it had been taken only a day or two before disaster. 

The last, is simply a beautifully taken photo of L’Manburg decorated for Christmas. There are tear stains marring the surface and a drop of, what looks like, dried blood on the corner. Phil closes his eyes, burying his face in his hands and lets himself cry for the happy, hyper boy, who no longer was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a late Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, boys, girls, and enbys. I hope you all had a good one and got to spend it with people who you love and who love you! You’re all dope as hell :) I’d love to hear from you all in the comments!
> 
> [The last bit of this chapter was brought to you by me sobbing to Late-August’s new DreamSMP animatic. Imma be listening to that song and the one they used for their first animatic on loop for the rest of my life lmao.]


	7. Alone Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy thinks he’s going to be kicked out.

Nearly the moment Tommy leaves the cabin he, for lack of a better word, _panics_. He had just yelled at the people, who were giving him shelter _and_ had stormed out of the house. They both must be so angry at him. Tommy doesn’t really blame them. Sinking into the snow, he leans against the side of the house and stares into the forest.

He doesn’t cry this time. He’s not sure whether or not he _can_. He feels almost hollow, as he listens to the cries of the wind. Tommy stays there, shivering in the cold, for longer than he had meant to. He had forgotten to grab a cloak, but there’s no chance in hell of him going back in to grab one. He’s snapped out of his stupor, when he hears a slam inside the cabin. Stumbling to his feet, he stares at the door, fear pulsing in every muscle of his body. 

Without giving himself time to think, he stumbles back a few steps, before turning around and sprinting into the forest. His heart is pounding in his throat. He feels like he’s choking. He’s terrified of what his punishment for a stunt like this is going to be and he doesn’t want to find out sooner than he has to. He _knows_ that he’s going to wind up back in the cabin, one way or another, but he’d much prefer to return of his own volition.

He runs far. Certainly much farther than he should have. He only stops, when he can’t see any signs of Technoblade’s home any more, and collapses at the base of a tree. He had _really_ messed up this time, hadn’t he? Perhaps he shouldn’t return at all. That would probably be better. In the few days, he had lived with Phil and Techno, all he had done was cause them unneeded stress. Cursing himself for being such a waste of resources, he closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted.

He can’t go back. He _can’t_. Techno’s probably going to kick him out anyway, so Tommy might as well avoid giving him the satisfaction. He had known that the arrangements wouldn’t last, but he was hoping that it could go on for more than three days. Chuckling darkly, he thinks that three days might have been a record low.

He jumps, when something cold and furry presses into his side. Looking down, he sees a little fox, looking up at him, with warm, dark eyes. “Hello,” Tommy says, in a hoarse whisper, “I have a friend, who’s like you. Well, I _used_ to be his friend. I don’t think he cares very much about me anymore.”

The fox presses closer to him and, if Tommy didn’t know any better, he would say that the little creature looks almost sad. “Do you have a family? He asks it, bringing a hand up slowly to pet its head.

The fox just burrows into his side. “I don’t think I have one anymore,” Tommy admits very quietly. “My dad and one of my brothers hate me. My other brother is dead. I suppose that friend I was talking about earlier is technically my nephew. But, like I said, he doesn’t care about me anymore either.”

The fox squeaks loudly, as if in protest. “My only friend is Dream,” Tommy says, with a deep sigh. He shakes his head suddenly, “No he isn’t. Dream doesn’t care about me either. I can’t think about him. My thoughts get all flip-floppy.” 

”I had this other friend,” he tells the fox, voice breaking, “He’s everything that’s good in this fucked up world, you know that? Caring and kind and willing to give everybody a second chance, no matter how terrible they were to him. And if somebody like that doesn’t care whether or not I live or die, than nobody will.” The fox squeaks again and, this time, Tommy _knows_ that his mind is inventing the sad note in the noise.

His eyes begin to droop again and, even though he’s still shivering, with the cold, he can feel himself beginning to drift off. He doesn’t feel the fox leave his side, as he drops into blackness. 

—————

The next thing he knows, he’s being shaken awake. Opening his eyes blearily, he groans at the stiffness in his back and the bone deep cold coursing through his body. Looking up at the person who had woken him, he flinches, when he sees Technoblade’s dark eyes staring back at him. Attempting to scramble away from the older man, he stammers, “Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I really am, just please don’t hurt me.”

Techno looks almost horrified at Tommy’s words, though Tommy isn’t sure what, exactly, he had said wrong. “Tommy, it’s a miracle that you haven’t frozen to death, out here. You’ve been out here for hours,” Techno says sternly, “We can discuss you _running away_ , when we’re back to the cabin.”

Tommy nearly falls, when he tries to get to his feet. Techno catches him by the arm, giving him an, almost disappointed, look. “Why bring me back to the cabin, only to kick me out afterwards?” Tommy demands, yanking his arm out of Techno’s, not-quite-harsh, grip.

”I’m not going to kick you out,” Techno rolls his eyes, “Not everyone’s out to get you, Tommy.” He motions for Tommy to walk along side him, as he begins to make his way home.

Tommy snorts derisively, even as he starts walking with his older brother. “Yeah, okay. Maybe that’s why everyone I’ve ever known has left me.”

Techno’s fists clench convulsively and Tommy flinches back, automatically bracing for a hit. He certainly deserves one, after his little tantrum. Techno pauses in his tracks, studying Tommy’s face for a moment. Tommy shrinks into himself, instinctual fear making his heart pound. Turning away, the piglin starts to walk again. “I’m never gonna hit you, Tommy,” he says, in an almost conversational tone.

Tommy winces. “You don’t _know_ that, though. _Do_ you?”

“ ‘Course I do,” Techno shrugs, “It doesn’t help anybody. I don’t really want to hurt people anymore.”

Tommy shakes his head, “I still can’t be sure, you know that, right? I used to think that Wil would kill somebody before hurting me and we both know how that went, don’t we?” Techno clearly has no response for that and merely shrugs awkwardly.

”How did you know where I was?” Tommy asks defensively. Had Techno followed him or something?

Techno stiffens slightly at the question. “It doesn’t matter how I knew,” he says sharply.

Tommy opens a mouth to argue the point, but Techno looks dangerously close to being angry. The teen snaps his mouth shut, ducking his head nervously. He doesn’t want to anger the man any more than he already had. They walk in silence; the only sound being the wind whirling angrily around them. Tommy shivers again, cursing himself for forgetting to bring any source of warmth.

Wordlessly, Techno unbuttons his cloak and shoves it into Tommy’s arms. Tommy scrambles to not drop it and, by the time he has it around his shoulders, Techno isn’t looking at him anymore. “Thanks,” Tommy grunts awkwardly, wrapping the warm material closer around him. Techno nods shortly, pointedly looking anywhere but at Tommy.

Neither of them speak again, until they arrive at the cabin. The moment they open the door, they’re greeted by an extremely relieved Phil. “Oh gods, you found him?” Phil breathes. He rushes forward, as if to wrap Tommy in a hug, but hesitates. Tommy makes the decision for him, giving his dad a very brief hug, before pulling away again.

”I’m sorry I yelled at you both,” Tommy whispers, staring at the ground. 

Phil shakes his head, “You’re freezing, Tommy. Come sit next to the fire.” Tommy gratefully sinks down into the couch in front of the fireplace, too exhausted to be scared anymore. He falls asleep almost instantly, blissfully unaware of Techno and Phil talking worriedly together.

Nobody notices the needle on Tommy’s compass moving for the first time since it was created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I’d love to hear your opinions in the comments! They’re genuinely the best part of my day lmao  
> Once again, I’d just like to thank you all SO much for all of the support on this fic. It really means a lot to me! <3
> 
> [Also, I do not recommend petting wild foxes like Tommy did lmao]


	8. Making Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox friend returns and Phil, Techno, and Tommy have a tough conversation.

When Tommy wakes up, it’s clear that he had slept through the remainder of the night. A soft morning light is streaming through the windows and shimmering on the snow outside. Tommy looks around and sees that Phil is asleep on the couch next to him. Techno is sitting by the window and, upon closer inspection, Tommy can tell that he’s asleep. The man’s elbow is on the windowsill, hand on the side of his face. It’s clear that he had been trying to keep himself awake.

Tommy jumps, when he sees the fox from the night before curled up in front of the fireplace. He hadn’t noticed him the night before and he can’t help but wonder how he managed to make it past Techno’s vigilance, bordering on paranoia. As quietly as possible, Tommy stands up and he sneaks into Techno’s storage room. Fishing out a golden apple, he chews on it, mind racing nervously. He’s not sure when he’ll be allowed to eat again, so he might as well get _some_ food in himself.

He flinches, when a gravelly voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “You could have just said you were hungry, Theseus.”

”Sorry,” Tommy mutters, wolfing down the rest of the gapple, before Techno can take it from him. “Don’t call me Theseus,” he adds, mouth still full of food.

”Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Techno retorts, rolling his eyes. They’re both silent for a moment, staring at each other contemplatively.

“There’s a fox in your house,” Tommy finally says intelligently, “He’s going to shit on the floor or something.”

”Don’t be disgusting, Tommy. I know he’s here and he won’t do anything of the sort,” Techno speaks levelly, but his lips twitch, with something like amusement.   
  
“I didn’t take you for the sort to let wild animals into your home,” Tommy snorts, the ordinary banter a comfort to his racing nerves.

”Tommy, there’s a cow in my basement,” Techno says expressionlessly, “Besides, that isn’t a _wild_ fox.”

”Huh?” Tommy says blankly, “That little shit found me out in the woods. It _has_ to be wild.”

”He’s an... acquaintance,” Techno says cryptically.

”Technoblade, m’friend, you’ve been alone for too long,” Tommy laughs outright, realizing too late that Phil is probably still trying to sleep, “Seriously, man, it’s a _fox_. It can’t be an ‘acquaintance’.”

”Use your _brain_ , Tommy,” Techno snaps, flicking the side of Tommy’s head. Tommy flinches despite himself and a mixture of anger and regret flashes across Techno’s face for a moment. “Who do we know, who’s a fox?” The piglin moves on quickly, “Didn’t he seem a little too smart?”

”What the hell are you going on about, Big T?” Tommy demands, either unable or unwilling to make the connections for himself. 

” _Fundy_ ,” Techno explains, speaking slowly, as if Tommy’s stupid. It pisses Tommy off.

”No. No chance in hell, buddy,” Tommy grinds out, mortification growing slowly, in the back of his head, “I did not spill my fucking guts out to our _nephew_.”

”Well if you spilled your guts out to that fox, than yes. You did,” Techno shrugs, “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news and all that.”

”Oh, gods. I- I- I can’t talk to him. I can’t. I said _way_ too much,” Tommy stutters out, feeling his face heating up. He presses both cold hands to his face, in an effort to cool himself down.

”A little too late for that, don’t you think?” It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in weeks. Tommy’s head whips around to see Fundy. Fundy, as he normally appears. A two-legged, fox boy.

”Fundy!” Tommy says, a little too loudly, voice squeaking in embarrassment, “How’ve you been, man?”

”Eh,” Fundy responds, shrugging, “Things have been boring without you. I think Tubbo’s going stir-crazy,” his light-hearted expression drops, as he continues, “Seriously, Tommy. Tubbo misses you a hell of a lot.”

“Right,” Tommy says tightly, “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

”I was looking for _you_ , as a matter of fact,” Fundy says grimly, “I went to visit you and you were gone, so I decided to go looking for you. Found you in the forest, but I heard Philza and Techno calling for you. I told them where you were. But seriously, Tommy? You’re staying with _Technoblade_?”

”Hey! Techno’s not that bad anymore,” Tommy’s surprised to find himself defending his brother. By the look on Techno’s face, he’s just as shocked as Tommy is.

”Whatever you say,” Fundy says, looking unconvinced. Giving Tommy a quick hug (that Tommy has to force himself to not flinch away from), Fundy mutters, “Oh, and Tommy? I don’t hate you.”

”Oh,” Tommy says blankly, as Fundy backs away again. 

”Well, I have to get going,” Fundy says, a little awkwardly, “Give Grandpa my best, will you?”

”That won’t be necessary,” Phil’s voice comes from behind Fundy, as he appears in the doorway. Fundy whirls around, ears flattening in embarrassment. Philza wraps Fundy in a hug for a moment, before patting him on the back and pulling away.

Fundy clears his throat uncomfortably, giving Techno a wave goodbye, and shrinks down into the little fox that had curled up next to Tommy the night before. Phil walks over to open the door and let Fundy out, shutting and locking the door behind the fox.

Suddenly, as Phil turns to look at Tommy, the atmosphere in the cabin turns heavy and oppressive. Tommy swallows hard, as he tries to keep his eyes on both Techno and Phil. Of course. _That’s_ why things had felt so normal this morning. Techno didn’t want to yell at him in front of Fundy. Dream had never punished him in front of others either.

”Tommy,” Phil begins, almost cautiously, “We need to talk about last night. Come sit down.”

”I’m sorry,” Tommy says instantly, nearly running to comply with Phil’s ~~demand~~ request, “I’m sorry I yelled at you both and I’m sorry I ran away. Take whatever you want, I won’t complain. I promise.”

Techno fails to stifle a frustrated sigh, “I don’t expect you to believe us yet, but we aren’t going to take anything from you or hit you or- or do anything you think we’re going to do.”

”Well, you’re right. I don’t believe you,” Tommy says stiffly.   
  
“Toms,” Phil says quietly, “I hate to say it, but we deserved everything you said to us.” Techno nods in silent agreement, not making eye contact with anyone.

Tommy stares, shock pulsing through him. “What?” He breathes softly, “You- I...”

”We _haven’t_ treated you right, Tommy. We _haven’t_ , but we will,” Phil says, putting an oh-so-gentle hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy leans into it, despite himself. “I know that there’s nothing we can do to convince you and we can never fix what we’ve done, but we’re going to try to make up for it.”

”Thes- Tommy, I know you hate me, but-“ Techno starts.

”I don’t hate you,” Tommy blurts out, unintentionally mirroring Fundy’s earlier words. “You used to be my hero, Technoblade,” he admits quietly, “We were best friends as kids, remember? Until about four years ago, when you turned eighteen and fucked off. You decided that your family- that _I_ wasn’t enough for you. You even left your _twin_ , Techno.”

”You all got along just fine without me,” Techno says, voice uncharacteristically soft, “You were twelve. You didn’t need me anymore.”

”That’s not the point,” Tommy snaps, voice rising, “I _did_ need you, Techno. I had Dad and I had Wil and it was _fine_ , but I needed _you_ too, Blade.”

"Don't try to make me seem like a bad brother," Techno shouts back, though he sounds unsure of himself.

"I'm not 'making you seem' like anything," Tommy yells, "If telling the true story makes you look bad, then maybe you should do some soul-searching, big man."

Techno draws back and Tommy is shocked to find that his brother is clearly speechless. "I already know what my soul looks like," he finally says darkly, "It's ugly and rotted and _dead_."

Tommy and Phil both flinch. Techno winces away from some unseen and unheard entity. "Be quiet!" He snaps to the empty room. Phil and Tommy share a glance. They're all used to Techno's voices, but it's frightening, whenever the, usually calm and collected, piglin is clearly rattled by them.

All three of them take a moment to catch their breath, before Techno says, in a gentler tone, "The point is, Tommy, I agree with Phil. We're going to make up for how we neglected you."

The three sit silently, in the heavy air, for a long moment, before Phil takes a deep, bracing breath and says, "Alright, boys. How about some breakfast?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me projecting my own relationship with my brother onto Techno and Tommy...
> 
> Anyway... I really hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I was really excited to write this one! I’d love to hear from you all in the comments!
> 
> To clarify: in order to make Techno and Wilbur twins, I averaged their age, making Techno 22 in this fic. (It's technically 22 1/2, but you get what I mean lol)
> 
> Also shoutout to ‘Lizza’ for guessing the identity of our fox friend correctly!


	9. Feeling Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno, Phil, and Tommy adjust to living with eachother and another visitor comes to say hello.

Over the next week, the three begin to learn how to live peacefully together. Only a few hours after their conversation, Techno and Tommy mine for netherite together and patch together a decent set of armor for the teenager. Tommy is clearly hesitant to accept it, despite having helped to make it, but he eventually takes it, almost reverently, and places it gently in his ender chest.

In spending so much time together, a few notable concerning habits begin to become noticeable in Tommy’s behavior.

One of the most worrisome, is the way the boy tends to hoard food now. It’s worrying, how he shovels in his food and continually hides gapples and other, less valuable, food in different places around the cabin. Techno knows Phil is concerned as well, though every time either of them try to talk to him about it, Tommy gets tense and defensive. So far, they’ve been unable to find a good way to bring it up, so they’ve tried to let it go for the time being.

Another habit that makes Techno’s voices _furious_ , is how Tommy constantly forgets that he doesn’t have to give up a prized possession every time he makes a mistake. The boy will do something as simple as crack a plate and he’ll desperately shove his nearest position into the arms of either Techno or Phil, practically begging for forgiveness. 

Once, and only once, Techno makes the mistake of directly asking for Tommy’s armor. He had only wanted to make sure that they were all still in good condition, but he had, admittedly, worded his request wrong. It results in Tommy silently handing his armor over, with trembling hands, and sniffling sadly, until Phil realizes what had happened and rushes to help fix Techno’s mistake.

Tommy looks astonished, when Techno hands his armor back, not even five minutes later. Techno can feel nothing, but blind rage towards a certain green man.

The last and, probably, most concerning habit is Tommy’s penchant for flinching, whenever Phil or Techno move to fast. Or whenever they raise their voices too much. Or whenever he thinks that there’s even the slightest possibility of them being angry with him. It’s slightly worrying (more than slightly if Techno doesn’t lie to himself) and it leads to him and Phil being much more careful than they usually would be.

On Tommy’s good days, things aren’t much different than they were before the exile. They’ll talk and argue and Tommy will laugh loudly and roughly. Phil will try to mediate their arguments and end up laughing harder than either of them. Techno will roll his eyes and pretend to not be amused by the other two. 

Honestly, it almost feels like it did years ago, when the family lived together happily in another world entirely. Only two things ruin the happy little fantasy. The gaping crater in their family that is the absence of Wilbur. And Tommy’s bad days.

On Tommy’s bad days Techno wants nothing more than to dropkick Dream into the void of the End. Usually, those days can be spotted from the moment the teen wakes up. He will be too timid and too quiet and not stubborn enough.

On days like that, Tommy will practically inhale every meal, looking almost like a starved puppy. On days like that, if somebody raises their voice or gets, even a little, angry, it either sends him into a slew of frantic apologies, or he’ll disappear, only for someone to find him shaking in a cupboard an hour later.

Sometimes, the only thing that can calm the blonde boy down on those days is a tight, reassuring hug from Phil and an awkward pat or two on the shoulder from Techno. Sometimes, Phil will lay down on the couch, with Tommy still clinging to him like a koala, and both older men will pretend that they don’t hear the teen crying softly into Phil’s chest.

—————

It’s on a particularly bad night, where it looks dangerously close to needing a Phil cuddle to resolve, that they receive a surprise visitor. A cheerful, yet somehow broken, voice calls out, “Knock knock!” Tommy sucks in an audible breath and Techno and Phil share a shocked glance. “Techno?” The voice calls out again, “I’m knocking! Knock knock!”

”Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’ Wil- Ghostbur,” Techno says, getting up from where he had been seated and moving to open the door. 

The moment the door is open, Wilbur glides into the room, legs moving in a poor imitation of walking. On every other step he either floats too high above the ground or clips through the floor. Not that Techno would ever say that to his face. He _had_ said it once and Ghostbur had been _very_ upset. Something about making a ghost cry just makes you feel like the biggest asshole of all time.

”Hey, Ghostbur,” Phil says, as Techno shuts the door, in that gentle voice that he only ever uses to speak to Ghostbur with.

”Hi, Dad!” Wilbur says, with a blinding, see-through smile, “It’s good to see you!”

“Ghostbur,” Tommy says blankly and Techno feels himself tense. 

”Hi, Tommy!” The ghost responds happily, waving with both hands, “It’s so good to see you! When did you get here?” 

”A little over a week ago,” Tommy explains, voice still devoid of all emotion.

Ghostbur’s smile fades a little, “You seem very sad, Toms. Do you need some blue?” He holds up some blue, a hopeful look in his eyes.

”Sure,” Tommy agrees, holding out his hands to receive the blue. He holds it gently between his palms and stares down at it, as he speaks again, “Why did you leave me, Wi- Ghostbur?”

”I didn’t mean to!” Ghostbur says earnestly, “Dream told me to wander the tundra after he took the party invitations from me and so I did! I almost melted a few times, but it’s okay! He probably doesn’t know how snow and rain effects me.” 

Techno can feel his anger rising. Dream had tried to get rid of the only thing left of his twin brother. _Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill the green bitch._ The voices chant in unison, _Blood for the blood god._ Techno’s glad of them this time. They give his fury someone to focus on.

Tommy squeezes the blue so hard between his hands that even his fingers get stained with it. “I think he _did_ know,” he says quietly, echoing both Phil and Techno’s thoughts.

”But, why would he try to hurt me?” The ghost asks, voice soft and fragile, “That’s very mean of him.”

”Well, he’s a bit of a dickhead, isn’t he?” Tommy snaps, clasping his hands together even tighter. He flinches away from some particularly nasty thought and mutters out, “But he was my- _no._ He isn’t a good person.”

“I can’t believe he would try to make me melt,” Wilbur says softly, voice beginning to warp and stutter, “Dream wouldn’t- he wouldn’t... um, he wouldn’t... send me... snow... uh, I- melting... I don’t... Dream- what? Um, I- I’m sorry, wh-what were we talking about?

”Nothing important, kiddo,” Phil says, in his gentlest tone. 

”Why don’t you go sit down?” Techno offers, clearing his throat, in an attempt to keep emotion out of his voice.

”Um, okay,” Wilbur says, a look of futile concentration his face. When Techno looks towards the couch, he can see Tommy blinking away tears. Ghostbur seats himself between Phil and Tommy and reaches out, as if to take Tommy’s hand, but his own hand fazes right through. Furrowing his brow, he tries again and manages to get a shaky grip, on Tommy’s blue hands.

”Hi, Wil,” Tommy says softly, blinking rapidly, as he stares at their joined hands instead of the intense look Ghostbur is giving him.

”I’m not Wil,” the grey man says automatically, though his grip only appears to get tighter.

”Right. I’m sorry, Ghostbur,” Tommy murmurs, not letting go.

They sit in an, almost comfortable, silence for a moment, before Ghostbur says, in a very earnest, child-like tone, “I love you _so_ much, Tommy.”

It reminds Techno so forcefully of when they were all children that it nearly knocks the wind out of him and he has to sit down heavily at the kitchen table. Looking up, it’s clear that it affected Phil and Tommy just as much. Phil is wiping his eyes subtly on his sleeve and silent tears pool in Tommy's eyes, some dripping down his face, even as he grips onto Wilbur’s hand tighter then ever.

"Did I say something wrong?" Ghostbur asks worriedly. He lifts his free hand, as if to wipe the tears off of Tommy's face, but, seeming to think better of it, he lets the hand fall to his side again.

"No!" all three say at once.

"Just... I love you too, bitch," Tommy mutters.

"Same here, mate," Phil agrees, smiling softly.

Techno sighs heavily, "I suppose I might have something like mild affection for you."

Wilbur looks as if he's never been happier and, despite the tears, Techno can tell that Tommy has relaxed significantly.

After almost two hours of the four just sitting and talking, Wilbur begins to fidget, before saying, "It was lovely talking to you all! We should do it more often!"

Even Tommy looks shocked, when he suddenly bursts out, "Please don't go!"

When everyone turns to look at him, he shrinks back slightly, muttering, "W-well, I think it's snowing outside and you should at least stay the night."

Wilbur settles back into the couch, softly saying, "Okay, that seems like a good plan." Raising the hand not holding Tommy's, he (after a moment of intense concentration) starts to stroke his brother's hair gently.

Tommy leans into the touch, though Techno has no doubt that it's icy cold. Eyes slipping shut, Tommy seems to be falling asleep. The very sight of it makes Techno tired and he quickly stifles a yawn.

One by one, the three living people drop off into a peaceful sleep. During the night, Ghostbur never once leaves Tommy's side and never once regrets his decision to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, ya’ll! Happy New Year everyone, let’s hope that 2021 is less shit than 2020 lmfao. 
> 
> I hope ya’ll enjoyed the chapter! I’d love to hear from you all in the comments! Just in case you couldn’t tell, Ghostbur has a very special place in my heart and I love him more than I love myself. If anyone needs some blue I’d be happy to give some away: 🔵🔵🔵  
> I appreciate you guys, gals, and nonbinary pals a lot :) ‹3


	10. The Enchanting Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy reflects on things and realizes that the lava of the nether is still quite enticing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Quick TW for suicidal thoughts throughout the chapter. If you were okay with the suicidal implications in canon than you should be okay with this. :)  
> We nosediving right back into the angst, boys. It’s where I thrive.

After that night, Ghostbur decides to stay with them. Tommy’s much more grateful than he probably should be. Sure, sometimes he sees Ghostbur out of the corner of his eye and his heart drops to his stomach, but it’s okay. It’s his own fault. Ghostbur is not Wilbur. He looks like him, of course, but he _isn’t_ him. ~~He can’t be.~~

Most of the time, of course, Tommy’s relieved to have his whole family in one place. It makes him feel less alone. Makes it easier to forget that the one person who he cares most about in the world never wants to see him again. Makes it easier to ignore the fact that he had betrayed his only friend, who wasn’t _really_ his friend, ~~but he might have been~~.

He doesn’t get his compass out of the ender chest very often anymore. He tells himself that it’s just because he hasn’t been alone long enough to do so, but he knows that that isn’t _really_ the reason. He likes to pretend that he’s doing better and sometimes he thinks he is. But he knows, deep down, that, if he put that compass back around his neck and put the photos back into his hands, he would be right back to the same headspace he had been in, when Phil found him on the beach.

Sometimes Tommy sits in the snow, when he’s supposed to be getting scutes from the turtles, and wonders. He wonders _why_. He wonders why the sweet boy, who used to ramble about bees, deemed him unworthy. He wonders why nobody saw fit to visit him after he had been driven out. He wonders why his party for thirty, became a party for two. He wonders why Phil and Techno think he is worth any sort of love. 

The man, who had fallen from grace, had warned him first, with harsh words wrapped up in a soft, familiar voice. He had told him that he should have learned already. The king with a smug grin and a voice dripping with satisfied mockery should have taught him the lesson long ago. Tommy hadn’t listened.

The man, along with the warrior with axes and too many wither skulls, had left him too. Tommy hadn’t allowed himself to care. He hadn’t cared until the boy with a sweet face and too-hard eyes had finally proven him unworthy. The green man, with a mask and falsely sweet words had only ever agreed.

Tommy doesn’t let himself believe in people anymore. Sure, it’s all nice now, but Techno had betrayed him before, who’s to say it can’t happen again? Phil is harder to mistrust. Tommy wants to trust him so, so badly, but he won’t let himself be caught off guard, by the inevitable betrayal. He can’t even fool _himself_ into thinking that he won’t be devastated by it.

Ghostbur is another matter entirely. He’s very easy to trust. He acts a bit like a six year old, but it’s comforting, in a way, to be around someone so innocent. Sometimes Tommy hates the way that the ghost refuses to remember anything less than happy, instead just shoving blue at the teen and forgetting the conversation. 

Tommy’s hands and forearms are perpetually stained a dark blue. It’s more comforting than it should be.

Some days are easier than others. Tommy can pretend that he’s okay and that things are how they used to be and that there isn’t a gaping hole in his heart, where a boy and his bees used to reside. He can pretend that he doesn’t flinch away from loud noises and angry words.

On most days, it’s impossible to forget the way his best friend had looked at him, before making the fateful decision. It’s impossible to forget the things Dream had done to him. It’s impossible to forget the way he had been planning on jumping, before Phil had found him.

Some sick part of him still wonders how long it would take if he let himself fall.

—————

On a day, nearly a week after Ghostbur had joined them, Techno asks Tommy to accompany him to the nether. Tommy, never wanting to seem useless, agrees, with an upbeat, “Of course, Big T!”

Phil is off collecting supplies, with Ghostbur, so there’s nobody to say goodbye to. Tommy suddenly wishes that he had said goodbye properly, when they had left earlier. He does his best to shake off the irrational fear that suddenly has his heart in a vice grip.

”Let’s get goin’,” Techno says, somewhat impatiently. Tommy forces himself not to flinch. Quickly putting on his armor and grabbing his netherite pickaxe, he hurries to follow his older brother out of the house. 

The trip to the nether portal is just long enough that Tommy almost wishes he had brought his cloak with him. The instant he steps into the suffocating atmosphere of the nether, however, he’s glad that he hadn’t. Heatwaves shimmer in every direction, as the lava bubbles, somewhere below their feet.

“You remember how to mine for netherite, right, Theseus?” Techno questions, handing the teen a few sticks of TNT.

”Yeah,” Tommy breathes, trying not to think too hard about the dynamite in his hands.

”Than we’ll split up. You go that way,” Techno tells him, pointing, “And I’ll go the other.”

”Will do, bitch,” Tommy agrees, trying to hide the slight quiver in his voice.

They part ways and Tommy has to resist the urge to run back to Techno and away from the all-too enthralling heat of the lava pools below him. He works in a dutiful silence for a time, wincing every time the dynamite went off.

One stick of dynamite explodes much too near the teen and he involuntarily lets out a cry of fear. L'Manburg's destruction flashes in front of his eyes, accompanied by a harsh, "Put the armor in the hole, _now_."

Taking a gasping breath, in an attempt to ground himself, he stumbles, half-blind, out of the tunnels and out into more open air. He's alone again. He's alone and Dream's coming to get him. 

Coming to a halt on the edge of a cliff, he sits down heavily, legs dangling over the edge. He's still breathing heavily. Maybe things would be easier if he just lets himself fall in. Maybe things would be easier if he just lets go.

He doesn't have much worth to anybody, so wouldn't it be better to just remove himself from the equation? He's certain that nobody would miss him. They might be a bit sad for a while, but, in the end, they would probably agree that it's for the best. 

He reaches a hand out, towards the lava that no longer feels so threatening. It bubbles invitingly, the warmth almost feeling friendly. Curiously, he throws a pebble over and watches it burn up the instant it hits the lava.

It would be quick. And it would only hurt for a moment. He begins to slowly take off his armor. It'd be such a waste for it to burn as well. He empties his pockets and sets the contents alongside his armor and his bag full of the netherite he had collected.

Should he fall backwards so he can't see the lava coming? He would be like that ancient Greek myth that Techno likes to talk about. What was his name? Icarus?

Maybe he would laugh as he falls. Laugh in relief and bitter triumph, as the wind rushes in his ears and the heat gets closer and closer until he's gone forever.

He's just about to stand up, when he hears a scared, familiar voice desperately call out, "Tommy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed this one. I know I’m a terrible person for leaving it on that cliff hanger, can ya’ll forgive me?
> 
> Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are super appreciated.
> 
> (Also, you fuckers left more comments on E than you left on the last actual chapter. I hate you all. /j  
> Jkjk, I love you all a lot and I appreciate all the support. This is officially both a funeral and a monument to my not-a-chapter ‘E’.)


	11. Crimson Clouds and Cerulean Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has a chat with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: Another TW for suicidal thoughts. Same rules go for this chapter, as the last: if you were okay with canon than you should be fine.  
> Second of all: Listen. We are IGNORING CANON. As per usual. I pretend I do not see. But in reality I do.  
> (But also, I’m 1000% on Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo’s side in canon. Canon character Techno is a bit of a wrongin, friends.)

“Tubbo?” Tommy says quietly, voice shaking. He doesn’t turn around. He can’t.

”Tommy,” Tubbo says again, voice shaking as badly as Tommy’s, “What are you doing?”

A laugh claws and scrapes its way out of Tommy’s throat, a rough, painful thing. “Well, you all want me gone, don’t you? I’m just doing you a favor.”

”Tommy, what?” Tubbo breathes.

Finally, Tommy turns around to face the boy, who used to be his best friend. He looks almost as wrecked as Tommy feels. Tommy feels his jaw clench. He closes his eyes. Tubbo’s breath hitches, “Tommy, I miss you so much... and I’m _so_ fucking sorry.”

Tommy opens his eyes again. “Okay,” he says softly, allowing a disbelieving note to enter his voice, “Okay, big man.”

”I’m not lying, Tommy,” Tubbo says desperately, “I fucked up. I fucked up _bad_ , and I’m so sorry.” The teen quickly wipes at his eyes, taking a few nervous steps towards Tommy.

”I should hate you,” Tommy says, staring at the ground below Tubbo’s feet.

There’s a long pause. Finally, Tubbo asks tremulously, “And _do_ you?”

Tommy kicks another pebble into the lava. He’s silent for a moment, before, very quietly, “No.”

”Tommy, can you get a little bit farther from the edge, please?” Tubbo asks softly. Tommy wants to despise his gentle tone. But he can’t.

He looks up into the swirling red skies of the Nether. “Is there any chance that I can get you to just... let me go?” Tommy asks, voice cracking, “I’ve already let _myself_ go.”

” _No_ ,” Tubbo cries out, “Absolutely not! Tommy... I love you, man. I made such a huge mistake and- and I’m not going to make it again.” He takes a few more steps towards Tommy. Tommy takes half a step back.

”You’ll be okay, I think,” Tommy says, wondering if he’ll look graceful... or pathetic, when he allows himself to fall. When he allows himself to tip backwards into the bubbling lava, arms spread wide in a final farewell to the world that hated him. “You’ll get over me eventually, I’m sure.”

” _Tommy_ ,” Tubbo says, voice breaking, “Please, Toms. I promise you that I won't. I left L’Manburg weeks ago to find you. I’ve barely even slept, I’ve been so worried. Now that I’m right here, so _fucking_ close, I’m not going to let you go.” He walks a few steps closer to Tommy. 

Tommy stares into his desperate, brown eyes and smiles sadly. The moment Tubbo gets close enough to touch him, Tommy gives a slight wave.“Bye, Tubs,” he says softly. And with that, he lets himself tip backwards, over the edge and towards the blistering heat below.

” **No**!” Tubbo screams and, right as Tommy’s feet leave the ground, two firm hands grab onto him. “You are _not fucking_ dying today.” It’s pathetic, almost, the way Tommy kicks and screams, as Tubbo hauls him back onto solid ground.

"Let me **fucking go** ,” Tommy yells, flailing wildly, in an attempt to get away from his former best friend.

”If you fucking jump, I can promise you that I won’t be very long in following,” Tubbo shouts, in return. _That_ makes Tommy pause, just long enough for Tubbo to drag him further onto land. By the time he’s back in his own head again, he’s too exhausted to do anything, but lay limply. Tubbo is holding him down, with his entire body. It takes Tommy a moment to realize that the smaller boy is sobbing violently, entire body shaking, as he pins Tommy to the ground.

It takes Tommy even longer to realize that _he’s_ crying too. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, words tumbling out of him, as his breath hitches, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m a shit friend and a shit person and I’m selfish and- and _wrong_.”

A hand covers his mouth and he finally looks into Tubbo’s wet, red eyes. “Stop,” Tubbo says, voice rough and scratchy, “Please, just- just stop, Tommy. _I’m_ the shit friend out of the two of us.”

Tommy hates the weird, whining noise that comes out of him, when he tries desperately to get air into his lungs, in between the sobs. “I missed you so much, Big T,” he chokes out, large, wet tears pouring down his face.

”I missed you too, Toms,” Tubbo croaks, taking a large, shuddering breath that only makes him sob harder.

Neither of them can do anything except lay there and cry into eachother’s shoulders for what was, most certainly, almost ten minutes. Finally, Tubbo sniffs loudly, before asking, “Are you here with anyone? I m-mean, is there anybody we can call?”

”Technoblade,” Tommy says quietly, after a pause, “I’m here with Techno.”

“What?” Tubbo breathes and the look of something too close to disgust on his face is enough to make Tommy have to gasp for air again.

”He saved me, Tub, he and Phil saved me. Techno’s trying to change, I swear,” he says rapidly.

Tubbo look unconvinced, but simply says, “Okay. Okay, Tommy. I trust you.” He hesitates, “If I get off of you can I trust that you won’t try to- to jump?”

Tommy hesitates, but, when he speaks, it’s entirely truthful, “I promise I won’t.”

Tubbo stands up slowly, grabbing Tommy’s hand and helping him up, when it looks as if he’s having trouble standing on his own. He instantly slings an arm around Tommy’s shoulders. It makes him feel almost safe. “Come on, big man. Let’s get you to Technoblade,” Tubbo says, voice unbearably gentle.

Tommy finds, the minute he attempts to start walking, that his entire body aches. He winces, as he and Tubbo stumble back towards the direction Techno had gone. Luckily, Techno is already back by the portal, by the time they arrive. His calm, almost relaxed, demeanor vanishes the moment he sees them. ”What the hell happened?” He demands furiously. Tommy flinches, instinctually shrinking into Tubbo’s side. Tubbo only holds on tighter.

”I’m s-sorry,” Tommy chokes out, wiping away the tears still trying to fall from his eyes. 

”Why the _hell_ is Tubbo with you?” Techno asks and, if Tommy didn’t know better, he would think that there’s true fear in the piglin hybrid’s voice. 

”Techno, I know we aren’t on the best terms at the moment, but we both care about Tommy, right?” Tubbo asks. His voice is grim and determined. It’s the same voice he used the day he exiled Tommy. It’s not the voice of Tommy’s Tubbo. It’s the voice of a president. It scares Tommy.

”Last I checked, you weren’t too _caring_ ,” Techno accuses.

”And that was the worst mistake of my fucking life,” Tubbo says, voice breaking. He sounds much younger now. He sounds like Tommy’s Tubbo. “Please can we just go to your home. Tommy- Tommy’s not doing very well.”

”I want an explanation before we go _anywhere_ ,” Techno insists.

Despite his best efforts, Tommy can barely keep his eyes open anymore. Dropping his head onto Tubbo’s shoulder he grinds out, “I wanna go home, Techno. Please just let me go home.”

Techno hesitates, but, ultimately, gives in, “Okay. But I expect a full explanation once we get back.”

—————

When Techno pushes open the door of the cabin, Tommy is horrified to find both Phil and Ghostbur sitting in front of the fire. “Hey, Tech,” Phil says, without turning around.

”Dad,” Techno breathes out and Phil whirls around, eyes widening, as he takes in the scene in front of him.

”Hi, Mr. Minecraft,” Tubbo says, a tremor in his voice.

”This- this seems like a very sad moment,” Ghostbur observes, voice shaking, “I think I’ll leave you all to it. Feel better soon.” He’s gone before anybody can call him back.

”What the fuck happened?” Phil questions, definite panic in his voice. Tommy is barely aware of Tubbo guiding him to sit down on the couch.

”I found Tommy in the nether,” Tubbo says tremulously, “I found him staring into a lava pool.”

”Oh,” Phil’s voice is blank. Emotionless. Shocked.

”I-I think I hurt him,” Tubbo explains, sounding disgusted with himself, “I _had_ to. He was- he was going to... I couldn’t let him.”

”It’s okay, kiddo,” Phil says automatically, “You did what you had to do.”

”We need to check you for injuries, Tommy,” Techno says, voice just as dull and shocked as Phil’s. “Come on,” he grabs Tommy’s arm and starts to guide him away from the couch. Away from Tubbo.

”No!” Tommy exclaims, more than a little hysterical and delirious, latching onto Tubbo with both arms, “Don’t take me away from him. You can’t- you can’t- you can’t...” he dissolves into sobs, clinging tightly to his best friend.

”Okay,” Techno says hastily, “We-we won’t take you away from him. Wait here just a minute.” A few moments later, Techno pushes a glass bottle, full of a silver liquid, into Tommy’s hands and tells him to drink it. Tommy complies without a fight and isn’t aware of anything else for a long time. 

—————

The first time Tommy awakes, he can’t open his eyes. He can hear hushed talking very nearby and tries to stay utterly silent. Someone is crying. More than one someone, by the sound of it. One of the crying people is apologizing over and over again, in between, what sounds like, an odd, broken explanation of something very bad.

Tommy wants nothing more than to reach out and comfort the crying boy, but he can’t seem to move his limbs. A frustrated cry leaves his mouth. The voices grow silent. Tommy isn’t awake for whatever happens next.

—————

The next time he wakes up, he manages to pry his eyes open. He’s lying on a bed, facing a window. Someone is curled up in the bed next to him, but he can’t muster the energy to turn and discover whoever it is. He stares out of the window instead. It’s nighttime and he can’t help, but be amazed, by the ethereal beauty of the silver moon illuminating the cerulean skies. 

Maybe, he thinks vaguely, maybe it’s worth being on this fucked up planet. Maybe sights like that are what makes it worth it. 

He decides, shortly after, that he’s too tired for such deep thoughts. So he lets himself fall back to sleep and thinks no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this pain. I was in a shit mood while writing this chapter AKA the perfect mood to write something like this agony. Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Any kudos/comments/bookmarks you want to leave would be super appreciated!


	12. I Must Have Really Messed Up This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *title from Can I Exist by MISSIO
> 
> Tommy wakes up. He’s not sure whether or not he’s happy about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling after the 6th, friends? Personally, as sad as I am about L’Manburg and as sad as I am about the fact that SBI got absolutely murked, I’m SO happy that Tubbo and Tommy are friends again.
> 
> Yes, I sobbed while they were singing the L’Manburg anthem over the crater, what’s it to you??
> 
> Also, if you support /rp dream, i have no respect for you /j

When Tommy wakes up for good the next morning, he realizes two things. Firstly, he’s lying on the bed that he had been using for the last few weeks. Secondly, someone is curled up next to him, with their arms wrapped around his chest from behind. Craning his neck to look, he sees that it is, in fact, Tubbo. Tommy’s heart pounds frantically, caught somewhere in between soaring with joy and lodging itself into his throat with fear.

“So it wasn’t a dream after all?” Tommy whispers, voice choked with either sleep or tears.

Tubbo’s eyes crack open at Tommy’s words. It’s clear that he had only been half asleep, waiting for the younger teen to wake up. “Tommy!” He whisper-shouts, “You’re finally awake!”

”I suppose I am,” Tommy says dully, turning back around and staring out of the window. He faintly recollects doing something similar the night before.

”Tommy, you scared me so much,” Tubbo says, voice breaking slightly.

”I’m sorry,” Tommy mutters. Sometimes it feels like apologizing is all he ever does. He’s done more than enough damage to others, the least he can do is try to make amends for it.

”Don’t apologize, Toms,” Tubbo says earnestly, “I’m the one who should be sorry. This- this is all my fault.”

Tommy can’t bear another minute of this conversation. He doesn’t have a good enough answer for the older boy. He doesn’t think that saying, ‘Apologize to someone with more worth than me,’ would go over too well.

“As... thrilling... as this conversation is, I need to get some water, big man. I feel like I’ve swallowed a desert,” Tommy says abruptly, trying to force as much cheerfulness as possible into his voice. Carefully extracting Tubbo’s arms from where they’re still wrapped around him, Tommy rolls clumsily out of bed. Tubbo’s hand latches onto Tommy’s immediately and the blonde squeezes back, just as firmly. For once, he doesn’t have the energy or the heart to call the smaller boy clingy.

They quietly walk, hand in hand, down the stairs and into the living room, where Phil and Techno are both sitting, in a heavy, opressive silence. "Hey, guys," Tommy rasps and both men practically leap to their feet. If Tommy clings a little harder to Tubbo, he blames it on his lingering dizziness.

As Phil pulls him into a tight hug, Tommy can’t help but notice Techno lingering awkwardly by the fire, looking almost guilty. “How’re you feeling, mate?” Phil asks, after he lets Tommy go, leading the teens to the table, where food is already waiting.

Tommy hates the gentleness in the man’s voice. He doesn’t deserve such kindness. Not after the stunt he had pulled. ~~Not after the stunt had failed.~~ Tubbo and Tommy pile onto the bench, practically sitting on top of eachother, in an effort to not let go, even for a moment. Eating with one hand is certainly a challenge, but, somehow, both boys manage it. 

Even Tommy manages to get the whole meal down. He almost hates himself for wasting their resources. The relieved look on Phil’s face only makes him feel slightly better. There’s a dead silence in the room, after the dishes are cleared away. It makes Tommy feel fidgety and, by the way Techno is tapping his fingers rapidly on his own arm, he’s not the only one feeling nervous.

”So are we going to have a nice little chat about me trying to off myself, or can I go about my day?” Tommy finally asks abrasively. Everybody else in the room flinches. Tommy can only bring himself to feel a little guilty.

”Well, I wouldn’t exactly put it like _that_ ,” Phil laughs nervously.

”Well, I _would_ , so ask your stupid questions,” Tommy says, unable to make eye contact with anybody.

”Why... why did you do it?” Phil finally asks.

Tommy chokes out a harsh laugh. The only thing he accomplishes, is hurting his throat. “I was just... so, so tired, Dad. I thought nobody wanted me around. And I thought that nobody would care if I lived or died,” he says, as lightly as he can manage, though even _he_ is aware that his tone is fairly insensitive. Tubbo presses into his side even closer, in response. “Apparently, I was wrong,” Tommy adds, voice softening for the first time, since the conversation had begun.

”Yes,” Phil agrees fervently, “We all want you around, Tommy. _All_ of us.” Tubbo nods, in firm agreement. Techno remains perfectly silent, staring intently into the fire, his back to the rest of the room. Tommy hates the way it makes tears well up in his eyes. He wipes his eyes discreetly, with the hand not holding onto Tubbo’s like a lifeline.

His head whips up in shock, when a quiet sniff breaks the silence. He wouldn’t be surprised if his eyes fell out of his head in shock, when he notices Techno’s shoulders shaking. “Tech?” He whispers, standing up slowly. He slips his hand out of Tubbo’s for the first time, since they had gotten out of bed. Tubbo seems to understand and Tommy’s glad of it.

 _”Fuck,”_ Techno curses quietly, “This- this isn’t about me. I don’t- I don’t know why I’m...” When Tommy approaches him, the piglin hybrid turns his head to face him. The expression on his face is one that Tommy has never seen before. He looks confused and scared and almost _lost_. Silent tears are slipping rapidly down his face, one after the other, as if racing each other.

Wordlessly, Tommy wraps him into a tight hug, trying to explain all of the emotions that he could never say aloud. Techno returns the hug, just as tightly and Tommy can feel him crying harder than ever. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m so sorry, Tommy.” Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever heard Techno sound so grieved and so serious. He supposes he had sounded much the same after Wilbur... but he hadn’t been around to hear.

”It’s- it’s alright,” Tommy responds awkwardly, trying and failing to keep himself from crying as well. “I- I suppose I just forgot that I don’t have wings. Thought I was like big man Philza, I suppose.”

Techno laughs weakly at that, pulling away again, after a very long moment. “You’re- you’re wanted, Tommy. You really are.” 

”Thanks, big man,” the teen responds, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Tubbo is sitting by himself on the couch, looking so forlorn and sad that the only thing Tommy can think to do, is sit next to him and pull him into a hug of his own. “I love you, Tommy,” Tubbo says softly, burying his face into Tommy’s shoulder. 

”Yeah, I love you too, Tubbo,” the younger replies, swallowing hard once more.

Tubbo pulls back slightly to look Tommy in the eyes. It feels, like it usually does, as if the younger boy is reading his soul. “Can you _ever_ forgive me for what I did to you?” He asks quietly, looking almost despairing.

”I think I already have, big man. Can _you_ forgive me for everything I’ve done?” Tommy asks, voice shaking, despite his best efforts.

”Of course I can. It was just a prank. I see that now. It was just a prank that got blown out of proportion and I’m so sorry I ever let myself believe so badly of you,” Tubbo’s voice is kind and gentle and how much he’s missed the teen suddenly hits Tommy like a ton of bricks. A few tears make it past his best defenses and he swipes them away irritatedly.

He’s suddenly feeling absolutely exhausted again and it seems as if everyone else feels much the same. It’s safe to say that they didn’t do too much that day. More specifically, Tommy and Tubbo spend the vast majority of the day curled up on the couch, in a disorganized pile, looking almost like a confused octopus. Nobody tries to make them move.

No one seems to have the energy to do anything more except sit and talk quietly. Eventually, once it gets late, they drop off to sleep one by one, Tommy last of all. The last thing he thinks before he falls asleep, is that, maybe, it’s a good thing that Tubbo had stopped him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! The clingy duo is back in town, both in canon and in this fic!!
> 
> Any kudos/comments/bookmarks you want to leave would be super appreciated!
> 
> Me while writing “you’re finally awake”: *laughs in Skyrim intro* (i think i’m funny. i’m not)


	13. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo feels like he’s missing an important piece of the story.

Over the next few days, Tubbo can’t help but feel as if he’s missing an important detail, of whatever had happened to Tommy in exile. There’s something fundamentally _different_ about his best friend, aside from the depressive state that he seems to bounce in and out of.

Tommy’s jumpy and nervous and overly apologetic and, frankly, he reminds Tubbo of how _he_ had acted for a long time after Schlatt. Tubbo had asked Phil once about Tommy’s behavior, but had only been told that it was Tommy’s choice whether or not to explain what had happened. The teen _gets_ it, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

The clues are there, some more subtle than others, but they’re still there. It’s like putting together a puzzle, in order to understand Tommy better. Tubbo’s not used to having to guess things about Tommy. For their whole lives (from the treehouses they lounged in as little kids, to the caves of Pogtopia) it’s seemed as if they understand each other perfectly without even trying.

Something has shifted now and Tubbo _knows_ it’s his fault. The younger teen doesn’t act like Tubbo’s Tommy. Tubbo’s Tommy is loud and brash and abrasive, but, at heart, caring and kind and the best friend anybody could ever ask for. 

This Tommy is still kind and loving, but something of his impulsive brashness has faded. And not as if he had matured. As if it had been forced out of him. Now, whenever he gets that look on his face, that Tubbo has always known means trouble, he seems almost horrified at the very _thought_. Once, the blonde teen eats Techno’s gapples, just to piss him off, and looks absolutely terrified, when the piglin actually becomes irritated.

The Tommy of the past would have gloated and laughed, loud and rough and almost like a scream of mirth. This Tommy makes a valiant effort, to be sure, but his gloating seems more like frantic excuses and his laughter seems brittle, as if it’s about to snap, the moment someone looks too closely at it. 

Even more shocking, to Tubbo, is the careful way that Techno responds to these actions. The Blade is so much more gentle and careful than the young president would have ever expected. 

There seems to be a silent agreement that they shouldn’t leave Tommy without company for longer than about five minutes. There also seems to be a general rule that Ghostbur doesn’t count as “company.” Tommy doesn’t seem to have a problem with this arrangement. He practically clings to Tubbo, whenever they’re in the same room, as if the older boy would just disappear if Tommy can’t see him at all times.

Tubbo doesn’t blame him. If he’s being honest, he feels much the same. After everything that had happened, from the exile decree to the confrontation in the Nether, he’s terrified of Tommy disappearing. Leaving and never coming back. Walking into the snow and letting himself freeze like the nearby river. Or going back into the nether and allowing himself to roast in the boiling lava. Or any other method the teen can think of. 

He had seemed pretty desperate to get rid of himself and Tubbo finds it hard to believe that a little chat and an apology or two can take away that dull ache of desire. Tommy’s hands and lower arms are always blue these days. He doesn’t laugh off Ghostbur’s offers of blue anymore, instead accepting it, with a little quiver in his chin and slightly shaking hands.

Tubbo keeps wondering if it affects mortal humans, so, one day, when he’s feeling particularly worried about Tommy, he asks Wilbur for some. He holds it in his hands gently and tries to think his fears away. Nothing happens. Nothing at all. He offers it to Tommy instead. The teen accepts it gratefully, with big, sad eyes and the ever-present tremble in his fingers. Tubbo has no choice, but to keep wondering what it does for the other boy, other than staining his hands.

Other, arguably more concerning, habits have begun to surface over the few days that Tubbo has lived with the family. For one thing, Tubbo’s fairly certain that Tommy never used to flinch at fast movements and irritated tones. He’s also positive that he never used to impulsively start to remove his armor, whenever somebody seems angry.

Tubbo’s sure that somebody has hurt Tommy. Somebody has hurt Tommy _badly_ and the older teen desperately wants to know who. When he finds out who it had been, he’s going to beat them into the ground, regardless of his own peacekeeping policies, or his relationship with the person. He’s almost positive that Phil and Techno feel much the same.

Living with Tommy and his family almost reminds of Tubbo of when they had all been kids. ~~For the sake of his own sanity, he~~ ~~has to ignore the fact that he and Tommy still _are_ kids.~~ It truly would feel like old times... if it weren’t for the glaring, painful differences. 

The most glaring of which, is, obviously, the mere fact of Wilbur being a ghost, but the rest have changed too. It’s less obvious on the outside, of course, but they’ve _all_ changed. It’s noticeable in the way Phil’s easy laughter is tinged with a sadness that had never been there before. It’s noticeable in the way Technoblade hardly ever smiles anymore, not even teasingly, and constantly seems over-prepared for battle. It’s noticeable, in the way Tommy flinches at phantom touches and cries his heart out, in the middle of the night, when he thinks that nobody is listening.

Tubbo supposes that _he’s_ changed, as well. He’s certainly not the happy, innocent little boy he had been as a child. Sometimes he wonders what had happened to the smiling boy, in the treehouse, who had invited the strange, loud, blonde-haired child up. He remembers telling him to ignore the sign on the door, with a childish, misspelled scrawl reading ‘Do Not Enter.’ They had hung out together for a few hours and they barely ever left each other’s sides after that.

Tommy had learned that Tubbo didn’t have a family, about a week into their friendship, and had instantly offered to let him live with him and his family. Tubbo had agreed, with only slight hesitation. He had grown closer to Wil and Techno and had even almost seen Phil, as a pseudo father figure, but he has never been closer to anybody than he had been with Tommy. Sometimes Tubbo wonders what had happened to the wild boy, with a permanent mischievous grin on his face and sweet, untroubled eyes.

Tubbo likes to imagine that he’s still on the little hill near their old house, making flower crowns, with the kind little boy, with bees, who he claims to be friends with. Maybe he’s still pretending to be reluctant, while his friend patiently guides his clumsy little hands around the flower stems. Maybe his friend is still laughing softly, whenever the messy-haired boy snaps a flower in half by accident, letting loose a volley of curses spoken far too fluently for such a young boy.

Sometime later, perhaps, in that happy world, they’ll skip back to their house, flower crowns on their own heads, to gift the painstakingly crafted crowns to their family. Maybe, the curly haired boy, not quite yet a teenager, will over-dramatically praise their craftsmanship, in a funny accent, and make both young children giggle hysterically. And, maybe, his twin will parade around the house dramatically, wearing his gift, a soft blanket pinned around his shoulders, like a cape, proclaiming himself to be the prince of the flowers.

Maybe, the man with beautiful wings, that look like nothing but safety, will gather them both in his arms and tell them affectionately that he’ll treasure it for all his days. Maybe he’ll replace his usual hat with the crown, until the flowers look as if they’re going to die. Maybe then, he’ll press the flowers and keep them in a mis-matched scrapbook that contains important memories and silly pictures alike.

But, perhaps, it’s all just a silly fantasy, taken from days long past. Tubbo knows it’s stupid, but he likes to think that those people are still living happily somewhere. Perhaps, in another life, they are. Tubbo doesn’t know. All he knows is that, in the here and now of _this_ life, the happy little family has changed dramatically.

He might not like the changes very much, but he’ll stick to them faithfully. No matter what happens, the sad, jaded president of a dying country will stick to the depressed, scared teenager, just as faithfully, as the sweet, creative little boy had stuck to his loud, playful friend.

Tubbo is never going to leave his best friend again and he knows that Tommy will stand by him, just as loyally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the first Tubbo POV chapter! This one kind of got away from me, but I love it a lot. I wonder if it was obvious how much I love Tubbo lmao. Also somebody tell me why I legitimately cried while writing this chapter??? I didn’t cry while writing the last three???
> 
> By the way, I am absolutely BLOWN away by how much support this fic (but especially the last three chapters) has gotten. It’s absolutely amazing and I love all of you guys a lot!
> 
> Any comment/kudos/bookmark you leave would be super appreciated!!


	14. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo figures out who had hurt Tommy.

It feels intrusive, almost, the way Tubbo learns the identity of the person, who had hurt Tommy so badly. Like Phil had said, it should be Tommy’s choice to tell Tubbo what had been done to him. Unfortunately, it’s rare that things end up the way that they should.

One night, less than a week after Tubbo had come to live with them, the entire house is awoken, by a heartbreaking scream. Tubbo, who’s been sleeping in the same bedroom as Tommy, nearly falls off the bed, with how hard he jumps at the sound. Getting to his feet hastily, he looks around, feeling disoriented.

Tommy, clearly still asleep, is thrashing in his bed, sobbing and, occasionally, letting out heartbreaking little whimpers. As Tubbo rushes to shake him awake, he hears two sets of footsteps sprinting up the creaky, wooden staircase. Techno is holding a lantern in one hand and a sword in the other. Upon seeing that there’s no attacker, Techno sheathes the sword and mutters something to Phil, who sheathes his own weapon, as well.

Tubbo reaches down again, in an attempt to pull Tommy into a hug, but the younger teen flinches away, muffling a cry of fear, with the back of his hand. ”I don’t know what to do,” Tubbo cries tearfully, looking around at the older men. A flash of panic crosses Techno’s face and Phil takes charge, when it’s clear that Techno has no idea what to do.

”We need to make sure he knows where he is. Stand back a bit, we shouldn’t crowd him,” the winged man says, a forced calmness in his voice. Kneeling down beside Tommy’s bed, Phil takes one of his hands, looking relieved, when Tommy allows Phil to guide him into a sitting position.

”Do you know who I am, Tommy?” Phil asks, firm, but not stern. Tommy nods once, a sharp, frightened little thing. “Can you say my name?” Phil continues, looking worried.

Tommy looks wary, but quickly mutters, “Dream.” Techno curses under his breath and Tubbo gapes. A mixture of grief, guilt, and fury overwhelms him and he claps a hand to his mouth, feeling sick to his stomach. Something of Phil’s obvious disappointment must have shown on his face, because Tommy whispers, “I’m sorry I woke you up, Dream.”

”It’s okay,” Phil says back. Tubbo sees him squeeze Tommy’s hand. “You’re okay, Toms. Dream isn’t here anymore. You’re _safe_.”

Tommy’s face contorts in confusion. “But...” he starts, “You’re...”

”Philza,” the man supplies, “It’s Phil, Toms. It’s your old man, not that green bastard.”

Tommy studies his face carefully, eyes scared and unfocused. After a long, tense moment, the teen whispers, “Dad?” 

”Yeah, it’s me, kiddo,” Phil agrees, voice a little wet. 

”It wasn’t a n-nightmare. It was a mem- a memory,” Tommy chokes out, almost frantically, tears pouring down his face, “He- he was- he was so mad at me. I tried to apologize, I swear I did. I gave him my armor and everything, but he- he k-kept hitting me. I was so s-scared, dad. I thought I was- I thought I was going to d-die.”

”You’re safe, kiddo, you’re safe,” Phil murmurs gently, pulling him into a hug and rocking him from side to side. “Dream’s not here and he won’t go anywhere near you ever again.”

Tubbo’s definitely feeling sick now. _He_ had left Tommy with Dream. _He_ had let him endure unimaginable abuse and trauma at the hands of that bastard. Techno must catch the look on his face, because he glares at the younger boy. “Don’t you _dare_ go blaming yourself. No way in hell could you have known what Dream was doing to him. He hid it well.”

”But, I could have prevented it from happening in the first place,” Tubbo whispers back.

Techno is prevented from responding, by Tommy loudly whining into Phil’s shoulder, “I miss Tubbo.”

”He’s right here, mate,” Phil says, voice still gentle. Pulling back a little, he gestures to where Tubbo is standing, stiff and scared. All Tubbo _really_ wants to do is bolt out of the cabin and take his chances in the snow, but Tommy makes pathetically sad, little grabby hands at Tubbo and no way in hell can he say no to that.

So, he sucks up his own misgivings, tries to swallow the persistent nausea and sits down on the bed next to Tommy, letting him fall sideways into his open arms. “You’re safe, Big T. We’re all here with you,” Tubbo whispers, rubbing Tommy’s shoulder reassuringly.

Tommy sinks into the gentle touch, the way he always has, ever since they were young children. “D’you think you’d feel better if you got some hot chocolate in you, mate?” Phil questions softly. Tommy nods tiredly, looking less panicked and more sad and exhausted. “Alright, I’ll go make some for us. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

”Hey,” Tubbo says softly, “Wanna move beds? This one’s all sweaty and the sheets are all tangled up.” A soft light flickers on in the kitchen downstairs and it instantly makes the whole house feel less shadowy and dangerous. Tommy nods again, looking completely drained of all energy. He leans heavily on Tubbo, when they stand up and nearly collapses onto the other bed, when they reach it.

Wordlessly, Techno begins stripping the sheets off of Tommy’s bed. At Tubbo’s confused look he explains awkwardly, “Might as well wash them. Like you said, they’re all sweaty.” He suddenly glares at thin air. “The fuckers are saying ‘Technomaid’,” he grumbles irritatedly. Tubbo lets out a startled laugh and even Tommy smirks a little.

He disappears back down the stairs and Tommy and Tubbo listen in silence, as Techno kicks open the trapdoor leading to the basement and, a moment later, the distant rumble of the washing machine fills the house. The trapdoor thunks shut and, for a few minutes, the two can hear quiet voices talking in the kitchen.

Finally, Techno’s still sleepy voice, calls up from the bottom of the staircase, “Dad asked if you wanted to come down, or if you wanted to stay up there.”

Tubbo glances at Tommy questioningly. Tommy seems to consider for a moment, before calling back, “I’ll go down there, I guess. That sounds better.”

”Alright, up we get then,” Tubbo says, groaning over-dramatically, as he hauls them both to their feet. He counts it as a victory, when Tommy huffs a quiet laugh.

”God, you’re so fuckin’ clingy,” the younger teen mutters half-heartedly, when Tubbo wraps an arm around Tommy, in an effort to keep him upright.

”Right, _I’m_ the clingy one,” Tubbo rolls his eyes affectionately, as they slowly make their way down the staircase.

”You’re a clingy bitch, you are,” Tommy says sagely.

”Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that,” Tubbo laughs. If he tightens his grip on Tommy anyway, nobody, but the other teen, ever has to know. They both blink rapidly, as they walk into the brightly lit kitchen, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. Sitting down together at the kitchen table, they both gratefully accept the hot chocolate offered to them, by Phil.

Techno is leaning back against the counter, sipping the contents of a mug of his own. Phil sits down across from the two teens, smiling tiredly at them both. The silence is comfortable now. Tubbo doesn’t feel as if he’s crawling out of his own skin anymore and, from the way he’s relaxed against the older teen’s side, Tommy’s feeling calmer too.

As if sensing this as well, Phil asks softly, “You feeling better, kiddo?”

Tommy nods, “Yeah.” 

”That’s good,” Phil responds, with a soft smile. The four continue to drink their hot chocolate in an affectionate silence, for nearly half an hour.

Suddenly, the weight against Tubbo’s side gets heavier than ever and, after stiffening for a moment, Tubbo whispers, “Is he asleep?”

Techno fails to suppress an amused snort and Tubbo glares playfully at him. Phil chuckles softly, “I think you might be stuck there, mate.”

Tubbo groans quietly, “Surely not!” They both snicker again. “You both hate me,” Tubbo whines, in a whisper.

”Whatever makes you feel better,” Phil grins. Tubbo glares. The three talk quietly for the rest of the night, none of them can fathom being able to fall back to sleep at this point, so they don’t bother trying. Despite the less than cheery reason that they’re all awake in the first place, Tubbo can’t help, but feel as if it’s not the worst thing in the world. There are _worse_ ways to be spending the night, after all.

And talking amiably, with two members of his pseudo-family, his best friend asleep on his shoulder, certainly isn’t as much of a punishment as it might seem. Perhaps, Tubbo thinks, he might even be a little fond of these people. Tommy chooses that moment to press even closer into his side and Tubbo rolls his eyes, as he thinks that, maybe, he might be a _lot_ fond of these people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Any kudos/comments/bookmarks would be appreciated! 
> 
> Also, shh, I gave them modern appliances, because I felt the sudden need to make the cabin feel more homely. We’re 14 chapters deep and I haven’t described anything, but the living room and the storage room lmaoo.
> 
> Also, also... guess who’s having road trip au brainrot after the streams on Jan. 10? And guess who might already have a WIP in his drafts? Me. It’s me. I’m the one writing a road trip au. Buckle up, bc it’s going to be big; not just Phil, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Eret. (Plus, in case this’ll entice anyone to read it, there’ll be wholesome DNF and Skephalo)
> 
> Plus, it’ll be some nice fluff to distract from the angst lmaoo


	15. An Unpleasant Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going well. Until they’re not.

Things are going well. Tommy’s panic attacks are becoming less and less frequent, he flinches less often, and he’s even been eating more lately. He and Tubbo are as inseparable as ever and it’s almost impossible to tell that there had ever been a rift in their friendship. Almost. Things are going well. Techno figures he should have known that it could never last.

It’s early in the morning, Techno and Phil being the only ones awake, when a forceful knock startles him away from the book he had been reading. Sensibly, he peeks through the window, before opening the door, and sucks in a sharp breath. “It’s Dream,” Techno says tersely, “Get the invisibility potions and go get Tommy.”

Phil’s face darkens and he rushes off silently to do as Techno had suggested. The knock comes again, even more forceful and demanding. Techno can barely hear himself think over the rush of furious voices: _Kill that green bastard. Blood for the blood god. He hurt Tommy. Blood for the blood god. E. Kill. Kill. Kill. We want blood. **Kill him. Blood for the blood god.**_

Doing his best to shake off the distracting noises, he opens the door, wearing a look of faux calm. He keeps one hand on the hidden scabbard of his netherite sword. “Dream,” he says flatly, “I wasn’t expectin’ to see you here.”

Dream’s mask is as blank and cold as ever. It makes Techno furious. He remembers the days, when they had had a friendly rivalry. Techno had even beat Dream in a semi-friendly duel and had split the prize money with his, then, frenemy. Those were the days, when he had seen that mask, as an odd, but understandable, quirk. Now, it just feels like a tool to make him come across as even more cool and uncaring than he already does.

”Yes, well, I was in the area and I was wondering if you’d seen, uh, someone I’m looking for,” Dream explains. He certainly sounds fully recovered from what Phil had done to him, but Techno knows better than most how well Dream can hide his true feelings.

”Well, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me who you’re lookin’ for,” Techno points out, hoping that it isn’t obvious how much he wants to stick a sword through this monster’s neck. _Do it_ , the voices advise eagerly, _Blood for the blood god’s little brother._

”Tommy, er... disappeared,” Dream says slowly, “I have... reason to believe... that Phil was involved in his disappearance.” The little that can be seen of Dream’s mouth, below the mask, grimaces at the mention of Phil.

Techno resists the urge to smirk. Chat finds it just as amusing as he does and it helps to bolster his confidence. He leans on the door jamb lazily, reveling in the growl of frustration Dream lets out. “Let me ask you somethin’, Dream,” he doesn’t bother hiding the smirk this time, when Dream’s fists clench, “Did he ‘disappear’? Or did he _run away_?”

”What’s the difference?” Dream snorts dismissively.

”The difference, Dream, is that, on the one hand, I might help you out. On the other, it’s none of my business,” Techno informs him calmly.

”Techno,” Dream changes tact suddenly, voice higher and more friendly sounding, “I’m just worried about him. You know how that stupid boy is. He gets himself into all sorts of trouble just because he won’t stop to think for a second. You’ll at least let me have a look around your house, right?”

”Go ahead,” Techno grinds out, through clenched teeth, “I don’t know what you expect to find by white-gloving the place, but be my guest.”

”Thank you, I will,” Dream slides past Techno and into the living room. “What a... cozy... place you have here.” Passing the table, where Techno had dropped his book haphazardly, when the masked man had knocked, he leans down to read the title. Techno can _hear_ the smirk on his face, when he says, “Really, Techno? The Art Of War? A bit stereotypical of you, don’t you think?”

”I’d advise you to mind your own business and not pry in, where you aren’t wanted,” Techno says, voice low and full of the promise of violence.

He’s sure that Dream hears the double meaning in his words, because the man pauses, before muttering a thoughtful, “Huh.” He pauses for a moment and Techno wishes he could see where the man is looking. “You wouldn’t be opposed to me taking a look around upstairs, would you?” His tone makes the words seem almost like a challenge.

Techno freezes, for just a moment, frantically trying to think of anything that could be upstairs that would be obviously Tommy or Tubbo’s. _Kill him_ , the voices demand, _kill him now and be done with the whole mess_. “Sure,” Techno says aloud, shoving roughly past Dream and stomping up the stairs first, being sure to be as loud as possible. “You can check around up here, Dream.”

Dream pokes around fairly quickly, not lingering on anything for too long, until they come to the closed door of the bedroom Tommy and Tubbo have been sleeping in. “Anything interesting in here?” Dream questions, a faint note of warning in his voice.

”Nah,” Techno shakes his head, “Just an empty guest bedroom.”

”A guest bedroom?” Dream snorts loudly and Techno wants nothing more than to rip his head off with his bare hands. “I didn’t think you were the type to get _guests_.”

”My father used to stay here sometimes,” Techno says shortly.

”Ah,” Dream says thoughtfully, “And has he been here... more recently?” 

“Not for a little over a month, now. So... no,” Techno shrugs, hoping that he comes off as casual and unworried.

Someone coughs. Techno, for lack of a more flattering phrase, internally panics. “Did you hear something?” Dream questions sharply.

”Must have been the house settlin’,” Techno says quickly, “This thing isn’t the most sturdy after all.

”Huh,” Dream says softly. The man is staring at him and Techno hates not knowing what he’s looking for, or what he’s seeing. Techno fidgets uncomfortably at the prolonged scrutiny and looks away nervously, trying to think of a way to get the man out of the house. Dream laughs, low and quiet and dangerous. It makes Techno’s skin crawl. _Blood for the blood god_ , chat begs, _kill him. **Kill him, Technoblade.**_ Techno almost jumps. Chat hardly ever uses his full name.

”Well, I think I got what I needed from you,” Dream says, an infuriating note of triumph, in his voice. “I’ll be on my way now, I think.” Suddenly, without warning, he flings open the door of the bedroom. It appears to be completely empty, aside from the furniture. Techno hastily releases the handle of the sword he had grabbed impulsively. 

He leans into the room briefly, seeming to be listening carefully for something. Techno clears his throat loudly, right as a small, hastily stifled whimper sounds from somewhere in the room. Techno’s almost positive that Dream had heard the noise, but the man shrugs and turns back around. “Oh well. It was worth a shot. Wasn’t it?”

”I’m not sure what you expected,” Techno says stiffly, leading Dream back down the stairs.

As Dream is walking out of the still-open front door, he pauses, looking back. “Technoblade? I hope you know that I’m not fond of liars.”

”You must really hate yourself, then,” Techno responds smoothly.

Dream is silent for a moment. “Okay,” he says finally, “Just- just know that I have a lot of powerful friends.”

”I think you mean, you have powerful _servants_ ,” Techno corrects bitingly, “Not one of those people would help you, if you didn’t pay and threaten them.”

”Maybe,” Dream shrugs, “Well, just... think about what I said. If you see Tommy, or Phil, give me a call.”

”Will do,” Techno says sarcastically, slamming the door in Dream’s face without another word. The other man lingers around the house for what is probably only a minute or two, but feels like hours. Finally, when he’s completely out of sight, Techno rushes back upstairs.

Looking into the bedroom, he nearly feels like throwing up, when he finds all three of his guests perfectly visible. Dream had been only about five minutes too early. Techno’s heart drops into his stomach, when he catches sight of Tommy. Phil has his arms wrapped around him and the teen’s face is pressed into Phil’s chest. His shoulders are shaking and his whole body is visibly trembling.

”Is he gone?” Tubbo asks quietly, looking up at Techno.

Techno nods, “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gone.” Walking closer, he kneels down in front of Tommy. “Tommy? Can you hear me?” A weak nod is his only response.

”Tommy, mate, can you look at me?” Phil tries cautiously.

Tommy’s head flies up at the request and the terrified expression on his face breaks Techno’s heart. Pushing himself away from Phil abruptly, Tommy shakily gets to his feet, backing away from all three of them. “You- you told him that I’m h-here, didn’t you?” He accuses wildly, pointing at Techno.

”H-he’s going to k-kill me and y-you sold me out, d-didn’t you?” Tommy begins to pace the room frantically, tugging at his hair, in his panic. “I knew I shouldn’t trust you. I knew it was just a matter of time. I knew it, I knew it, I _knew_ it.” Despite the knowledge that it was just the panic talking, it stings a bit that Tommy still doesn’t trust him, after all this time.

Flying to his feet, Techno storms towards Tommy, forgetting everything he’s learned about Tommy over the last few weeks, as he lets the anger and panic he’s been feeling since Dream’s arrival fuel his actions. “Since you apparently _know_ so much, would you mind telling me why someone so untrustworthy would cover for you?” He shouts furiously.

Tommy flinches away from the loud voice, but stammers back, “And h-how do I know you aren’t l-lying to me?”

”Because you’re not fucking _dead_ yet,” Techno growls, taking another step towards Tommy. Tommy flinches, stumbling back. “I fucking saved your ass and you don’t give a shit,” Techno yells accusingly, “You should be fucking grateful.”

Tommy backs up, until he hits the wall. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dr- Techno. I d-didn’t mean t-to-“

”Techno!” Phil suddenly snaps, before Techno can speak again. Grabbing Techno by the arms, he stares into his face. “Come on, Tech, what are you doing?”

Techno yanks his arms out of his dad’s grip, hating the feeling of being trapped. Breathing hard, he closes his eyes to collect his thoughts. Looking up again, he sees Tubbo standing next to Tommy, seeming to be guiding him to breath properly. “Fuck,” Techno breathes, “What the fuck did I just do?”

”Techno, we’re grateful that you kept Dream away from us and I know you were panicking, but I think you need to go cool down,” Phil says firmly.

Techno stares, horrified, at the scene he had caused. Instead of helping Tommy out of his panic attack, like he had always promised him that he would do, he had _worsened_ it. “Dad, I-“ Techno stutters. Something ugly and ashamed curls itself around Techno’s heart and squeezes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

”I know you are,” Phil says sincerely, “But I think you need to give Tommy some space right now.”

Techno nods numbly, stumbling backwards out of the room. He can’t bear to stay in the cramped, suffocating house right now, so he just stumbles out into the cold wind. He can’t think. He can’t even _breath_. Sinking down into the wet snow, he gasps desperately for any air to enter his lungs. 

He’s not sure how long it is, before he feels gentle hands squeezing his shoulders and hears a soft voice guiding his breathing back to normal. Too exhausted and disoriented to care about his appearance, he buries his face in the familiar chest. Soft, feathery wings wrap around him and he releases a shaky breath. “Come on, mate. Let’s get you back inside.”

He lets the safe voice with the wings, guide him to his feet, before leading him back into a warmer space. “Between you and Tommy, my heart’ll break right in half,” the voice laughs wetly.

”I’m sorry,” Techno whispers, unsure of what to say, but feeling guilty all the same. 

”Don’t be sorry, kiddo,” the voice murmurs, as it guides Techno to sit on something soft and comfortable. “Is your breathing getting better?”

Techno considers the question for a moment, before nodding. “That’s good, kiddo.” Techno buries his face in the man’s chest again, when he sits down beside Techno. 

” ‘m so tired,” he whispers.

”Go to sleep, buddy,” the man says softly, “It’s safe. You’re safe.” Somehow, Techno believes the man, so he lets his exhausted mind shut off for a while. He falls asleep against the man and doesn’t wake up again for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the return to angst :) I feel evil. Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are always super appreciated!
> 
> Also, guys!! The first two chapters of the road trip au are out!! Go read them if you’re interested! I’m really proud of that fic so far! <3<3


	16. Square One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Techno or Tommy are doing very well.

When Techno wakes up, it’s mid-afternoon. Phil is still on the couch next to him and he scrambles away from the older man, a spike of panic lancing through his chest. He doesn’t remember much of what had happened earlier, once he had started to panic, but he knows that he’d been much too vulnerable.

”Hey, mate,” Phil greets, in a soft voice, as Techno blinks owlishly at him. 

Techno clears his throat awkwardly, before muttering quietly, “How long was I...”

”It’s only been a few hours, don’t worry, mate, you don’t get enough sleep anyway,” Phil says reassuringly.

”What... what the hell happened?” Techno asks, feeling as if he hasn’t spoken in at least a month.

”You had a bit of a bad panic attack, kiddo,” Phil says, smiling sympathetically.

”I- why?” Techno’s voice is too small, even to his own ears. He hates sounding so weak.

”Everything with Dream just overwhelmed you, I think.” Phil’s wings aren’t out, Techno realizes vaguely, and he wonders if he had only imagined them being wrapped around him, when he had fallen asleep.

”But I... I don’t _get_ overwhelmed,” Techno protests, feeling distressed at the thought of allowing himself to just check out of life at such a crucial moment.

”Everyone gets overwhelmed, Tech,” Phil says gently. He looks too gentle and too kind and all Techno wants is another hug from his dad, but he can’t allow himself to let his guard down again.

Stiffly, he nods, agitatedly running a hand through his tangled hair that he hadn’t yet had the time to put up that morning, before everything had happened. He winces, when he tugs through a knot. “And Tommy?” He asks, determined to bring the subject away from himself, “Is he doing okay?”

Phil’s hesitation is the only answer Techno needs and he yanks at the ends of his hair, in an attempt to release the anxiety that is making him altogether too fidgety. “He’s... not doing too well, if I’m being honest,” Phil says, voice full of sadness, “Tubbo’s been staying with him, but apparently he’s convinced that you’re furious with him.”

”I didn’t mean to yell at him,” Techno says, with a rare earnestness, “I was just... worked up... and it made me say things I didn’t mean.”

” _I_ know that and Tubbo knows that, but you’re going to have to work things out with Tommy,” Phil says, voice both sympathetic and firm.

Techno winces, as chat picks up pace suddenly. Some are supportive, or at least not overtly hostile: _Technocomfort! SBI Pog! Big brother Techno! Technohug!_ But others are much more harsh and angry: _Smh, what a terrible brother. The blood god doesn’t have family. He’s a killer. He doesn’t even feel bad..._

“Stop,” he hisses, glaring at everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Phil gives him a commiserating glance. “Could I go speak to Tommy, now?” Techno questions, trying to tune out the too-loud voices.

”I’m not sure how well he’ll take it, but you could always try,” Phil says supportively. Techno nods tightly and makes his way upstairs.

When Techno peers awkwardly into the open door of the teens’ room, his heart sinks, when Tommy blanches at the sight of him. “Um, hi? Can I... come in?” Techno mutters awkwardly. Chat’s right, for once; he’s good at fighting and killing, not comforting.

”Hey, Techno,” Tubbo says tightly, giving him a thin smile.

Tommy just stares for a long moment, before asking, in a small voice, “Are you still mad at me?”

”Tommy, I...” Techno sighs, struggling to figure out what to say, “I wasn’t ever mad. I was just keyed up and it made me snap.”

Tommy’s eyebrow raises, clearly unconvinced, and mutters, “Sure, big man. You can come in, if you want, right? It’s your house.”

”But it’s _your_ room,” Techno points out, lingering awkwardly in the doorway.

Tommy snorts, with unamused laughter. “Well, nothing’s _really_ mine, is it? If you wanted to, you could just... take any of this away from me and I couldn’t do anything about it, huh?”

”I _wouldn’t_ take anything away from you, though, you know that right?”

”Wouldn’t you?” Tommy asks bitterly.

Techno doesn’t know how to respond to that oddly pointed question, so he just stays silent. Everything feels stilted and awkward, like it had, when Tommy had first arrived at the cabin. It feels like they’re right back at square one and Techno hates it.

—————

The cabin is horribly quiet over the next few days. Tommy avoids Techno like the plague and Techno spends more time outside because of it. The few times they _do_ run into each other, Tommy gives him a frightened look and flees as quickly as possible.

One day, when Techno is tending to the bees, a nervous, but grumpy looking, Tommy comes stomping through the snow towards him. “Phil made me come out here,” he says shortly, “He said something about us getting over our argument.”

”Mm,” Techno responds intelligently, “Help me collect honey.”

Tommy nods and hurries to do as Techno had asked. They work in silence for a long time, before Tommy speaks up finally. “You- you would never give me up would you?”

”No,” Techno responds immediately, “You’re with me now. I won’t abandon you, Toms.”

Tommy gives him a nervous look. “You’re still mad at me though, aren’t you?”

”I was _never_ mad,” Techno insists, “And even if I was, I’d never give you up to anybody and I would never hurt you.”

“I’m sorry I accused you of selling me out to- to _him_ ,” Tommy says quietly, looking down at the snow below them.

Techno sighs, looking everywhere, but at Tommy. “It’s- it’s fine. You were panicking and you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I didn’t mean anything at all that I said.”

Tommy shrugs, “I deserved it. I was being a dick.”

”You were _scared_ ,” Techno corrects, “It’s fine.” He takes a step closer to Tommy and hates the way the teen flinches, as if he still thinks that Techno might hurt him.

”Can I... can I...” Techno clears his throat awkwardly, “Is it okay if I give you a hug?”

Tommy stares at him, with wide, astonished eyes. “If y-you what?”

”You heard what I said,” Techno grumbles, avoiding Tommy’s gaze of amazement. 

”Uh, yeah, I- I think that’d be okay,” Tommy agrees, nodding slowly.

Techno awkwardly wraps his arms around his little brother and does his best to pretend that he’s not getting just as much comfort out of the embrace, as Tommy. “I love you, Tech,” Tommy whispers into Techno’s chest.

”I, uh, I love you too, Toms,” Techno mutters into the top of Tommy’s head. If Techno sees Phil smiling at them both from the front porch of the house and if his glare is much more half-hearted than he had intended, he doesn’t mind too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Sorry this one is a bit shorter than usual :) Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are always appreciated! (Not to shamelessly self-promote, but the next chapter of my road trip au is out 👀)
> 
> Also, weird flex, but I’ve been watching Philza’s hardcore series 4 on youtube for the first time over the last month and a half and I watched almost 9 hours of his videos on Thursday, bc I felt shit and had nothing else to do???? Oops lmao


	17. Opened Windows and Fluttering Curtains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno’s just paranoid... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Kidnapping, descriptions of violence (it’s only a threat, but still, i want to be safe) as usual, every other possible tw is in the tags :)

When Technoblade locks up for the night, he feels strangely uneasy, in a way that he usually doesn’t. Generally, ever since he had been alone in the tundra, he had been able to only lock _one_ of the locks on the front door.

Tonight, he feels strangely, as if someone’s watching him. He locks all four of the locks he had installed on the front door, in an attempt to appease both his own creeping apprehension and the uneasy murmuring of the voices. It doesn’t calm either very much.

He tries to tell the voices (and himself) that it’s just his usual hyper vigilance that’s trying to convince him that something’s wrong. The voices murmur restlessly, unconvinced, and he can’t pretend that he believes his flimsy excuse either. He peers out of the downstairs window suspiciously, staring around at the endless expanse of moon-flecked snow.

Carl snorts at him, from his nearby stall and Techno pretends firmly that it doesn’t make him jump. The hybrid withdraws his head and slams the window shut irritably, making sure to lock it. “You okay, mate?” Phil asks, peering at him with well meaning concern.

Despite knowing Phil’s good intentions, it makes Techno even more twitchy and he doesn’t appreciate it at all. “I’m fine,” he snaps, glancing over his shoulder at an urgent whisper, from a particularly loud voice. Forcefully ignoring the worried look on Phil’s face, Techno moves to the next window and preforms the same ritual. 

He shoves his head out of the window, looks around at the snow and trees, lit up by the moon (in, what would normally be, a very beautiful way), withdrawing his head, before double and triple checking the lock. He does this at every window, on every floor; Phil following after him, like a concerned mother goose.

”The boys are already in bed, right?” Techno checks, tapping his fingers aggressively on his arm, in an attempt to calm himself down.

”Yes, though I doubt they’re asleep yet,” Phil chuckles fondly.

”And they closed and locked their window?” Techno questions, unable to push down his growing paranoia.

”Yeah, I made sure they did. I know how you are with security, Tech,” Phil says, gently reassuring.

Techno suppresses a flinch at the keen words, hating the way Phil seems to be able to read him like an open book, even when nobody else can. He keeps his emotions shut away, to some place far behind his dark eyes, for a reason. It’s much safer, when nobody can read you and learn about you and understand every action, without trying. That’s how you get betrayed. That’s how Techno’s _been_ betrayed. Thoughts of Wilbur flash behind his eyelids and he rubs his eyes, with the heels of his palms, in an effort to push down the resurfacing memories.

”I think you’re getting a bit tired, Techno,” Phil says, with a fond chuckle, rubbing the younger’s shoulder lightly. 

”I- I don’t need to sleep,” Techno protests, pointedly ignoring that he sounds on the edge of hysteria, even to himself, “I need... I need to stay up tonight.” 

“Why?” Phil asks calmly, “Do you _need_ to stay up, or do you _want_ to?”

”I-“ Techno struggles to think of a real, valid reason to not sleep, for even a minute. Eyes darting around, in an anxious attempt to find an excuse, he stutters out, “Um, I have to fix my armor.”

”That can wait until morning, bud,” Phil smiles, “Besides, your armor is in perfect condition, as usual.”

”Fine,” Techno grinds out, through gritted teeth, “I just... have a bad feeling about... something.”

”Is it the voices?” Phil questions, voice wholly kind and sympathetic. 

Techno does an awkward, little half shrug and turns his head away slightly. He can’t make himself look at Phil. Not right now. “I guess,” he mutters, “But, I- I don’t think it’s _just_ them.”

”But they’re exacerbating it, right?” Phil says, once again understanding the way Techno’s mind works far too well for the younger man’s liking.

Techno shrugs again, “Yeah, maybe...”

”Well, either way, you’ll feel better after you get some rest,” Phil says, kind, but firm.

”Yeah... right,” Techno grunts, not entirely convinced.

He triple checks every lock again, before going to bed. Just in case. It can’t hurt to be prepared, he reasons to himself and Phil. He tries, and fails, to ignore the concerned looks his dad is giving him.

He lays down, in his own room, extremely reluctantly, making sure that a sword is within arm’s reach of his bed. Sleep is surprisingly quick in coming and he falls into a welcoming blackness, with a worried frown on his face.

—————

Techno is awoken in the middle of the night, to a crash and two quickly cut off screams, from the teens’ room. He practically flies out of bed, snatching up the sword by his bed, silently thanking himself for the foresight. Another crash has him out of his own door and at the other. Phil shows up not even a second later, face dark, with fear and determination. 

The handle doesn’t work, so Techno kicks the door open, with all of his strength. It bangs open, crashing against the wall, and Phil and Techno dive into the room. They both cough, eyes and throat stinging, and Techno notices lingering silver particles throughout the room. “Slowness potion,” Techno says brusquely and Phil nods, in agreement.

They look up, forcing their eyes open, despite the stinging gas still lingering in the air. The sight that meets them is enough to make their hearts drop into their stomachs. The room is a mess; furniture kicked over, as if someone had been struggling desperately. The sheets on both beds are tangled on the floor and, worst of all, the window above the beds is thrown wide open, curtains fluttering, in the freezing night air.

A pained whimper causes both men to look around sharply. There, tucked into a corner, arms shielding his head, is Tubbo. Techno hauls him to his feet, he’s not exactly gentle, but not rough either. “Tubbo?” He demands, “What happened here?”

Tubbo looks up sluggishly, skin and eyes tinted the same shimmering silver, as the slowness potion. “ ‘m sorry,” he murmurs, voice slow and quiet, but tinged with something like grief, “I di’nt r’lize.”

”Didn’t realize _what_?” Techno demands, trying to ignore the very distinct lack of annoying younger brother in the room.

”Dr’m took h’m,” Tubbo whispers, tears slipping down his face. It’s an odd sight, the way they fall, as if in slow motion, lingering on his pale cheeks, before slipping off and hovering in the air for a long moment, before they hit the ground.

Techno’s insides feel much like Tubbo’s tears at the moment. Something inside of him must have frozen at Tubbo’s words. He feels like he’s floating, almost, for a long moment. The horror and fury he knows that he’s supposed to be feeling, almost seems to be suspended right before they’re able to hit Techno’s heart.

He stands, frozen, not even realizing that he had dropped Tubbo, leaving the boy to be hastily caught, by Phil. Suddenly, the weight of what must have happened hits Techno like a furious Ender Dragon.

He staggers sideways, as both the wailing cries and screaming protests of the voices and the intensity of his own emotions hit him all at once. He stares at the open window and roars wordlessly, in an anger, blazing hot inside of him, like someone had lit a bonfire, in his chest, that he hasn’t felt since the days of the Antarctic Empire.

“ _ **I’m going to rip his limbs off**_ ,” he rages, wallowing in the furious cries of ‘ _Blood for the blood god,’_ and _’Turn the fucker’s_ _kneecaps inside out.’_

Storming around the room, kicking over any piece of furniture that had survived the initial struggle, Techno can feel nothing, but blind fury. “ ** _I’m going to make sure he’s almost dead and then heal him up, before doing it all over again, so he can never, ever escape_** me.”

Someone’s talking, but it doesn’t register over the blood rushing in his ears. Somebody touches his arm and he nearly takes their fingers off, before realizing that it’s just Phil. “Technoblade,” he shouts firmly, “You need to focus, kiddo. Come back to us.”

Techno’s suddenly very aware of the way his tusks are protruding well past his lips and the way his ears have grown and elongated. Panting, he tries to push past the tidal wave of fury that has caused this sudden change. He manages to get back into his own head to some extent, but he can’t manage to retract the parts of him that are much more piglin than human. 

”Tubbo,” he snaps, making the poor kid jump about a mile, “Why the _fuck_ was the window open in the first place? _Fuck, I knew something bad was going to happen_ ,” he trails off, muttering to himself.

”I-it was stuffy in here, so Tommy and I opened it, before we went to sleep,” Tubbo murmurs, “I’m so, so sorry.”

”It’s okay, kiddo, it’s not your fault,” Phil says softly, despite the tears in his own eyes, rubbing the teen’s arm reassuringly.

”Well?” Techno grunts, storming out of the room, “What the hell are we all standing around for? Gear up and let’s go. We’ve got a kid to find and a bastard to beat bloody.” Sweeping down the stairs, Phil and Tubbo trailing behind him, Techno feels something shift inside his chest. The fury and grief has calmed somewhat, into a grim determination. Technoblade is going to get Tommy back from Dream, even if he has to kill that monster a thousand times to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry :) 
> 
> Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are always very appreciated.


	18. Marionette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno, Phil, and Tubbo track down Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: child abuse and kinda-graphic descriptions of violence  
> Nothing SUPER graphic though, bc I’m lowkey uncomfortable with that lmao, so don’t worry about anything like that! <3  
> Enjoy!

Techno rummages through his chests, as quickly as possible, tucking any useful potions into the inside pockets of his cloak. “Tubbo,” he calls over his shoulder, “Are you recovered enough to come with us?”

Tubbo nods firmly, despite looking exhausted still, “I’m not going to leave Tommy. I swore I wouldn’t.”

Techno grunts, in acknowledgment, checking that his crossbow is loaded. “Phil, are you gettin’ your gear?”

“Yeah,” Phil mutters and Techno looks over to see the older man strapping weapons to his belt, wings fully protruding out of his back. “Tubbo, come get this armor.”

Tubbo frowns, with distaste, as he slips on the spare enchanted, netherite armor offered to him. “I hate the feeling of enchantments,” he mutters.

”So did Wilbur,” Phil says softly.

”I know,” Tubbo returns shortly.

“Phil, you scout ahead, while Tubbo and I walk,” Techno says, as they exit the house (and Techno locks every lock behind them.)

Flexing his wings, Phil nods, with a grim expression on his face. “I’ll let you know if I see anything.” Flapping his wings hard, he takes off into the air, sending a sharp blast of air into Techno and Tubbo’s faces.

”Maybe we should split up?” Tubbo suggests tentatively, “They could be anywhere, to be fair.”

Techno shakes his head tightly. “No,” he responds, “That’s too risky. Like you said, they could be anywhere. Dream won’t hesitate to hurt you, if he realizes that you went after him. _And_ we don’t know whether or not Punz and Sam are still working for him.”

“That’s fair,” Tubbo agrees, looking both terrified and determined.

”For now, we’re headin’ towards the Nether portal,” Techno says, pointing in the direction of the portal.

”That’s definitely a good place to start,” Tubbo nods.

They trek through the snow for nearly thirty minutes, the full moon lighting the way in front of them, before a large figure appears in the sky above them. Phil lands in the snow in front of them, face thunderous and wings spread wide behind him. To anyone else, he would probably be a terrifying sight, but, to Techno and Tubbo, who have only ever known him, as a beacon of safety, he only boosts their confidence.

”I saw them,” the man says. Techno’s hand twitches to his crossbow automatically. “They’re in Logstedshire.”

”Surely not...” Tubbo breathes, looking horrified.

”That bastard,” Techno growls, “That place terrifies that kid.”

”I know,” Phil says grimly, “Follow me. I’ll fly low.” 

They walk fast, arriving at the border of Logstedshire, within another half hour. “How do you suggest we go about this?” Phil asks, landing next to them once again. 

”Did you see anybody aside from the two of them?” Techno asks.

”No,” Phil shakes his head, “I think Dream lost all of his little friends.”

Techno grins dangerously, baring his teeth, “Than I’d say, we go in strong. No negotiations. No mercy.”

Phil and Tubbo both nod, pulling out their weapons. They walk into Logsted slowly, scanning around for Dream and Tommy, wary of any traps. They find them both on the beach. Tommy is slumped on the ground, like a puppet, with it’s strings cut. Standing over him, looking menacing, but triumphant, is Dream. “I already gave you my armor, what more do you want?” Tommy is saying desperately, in a choked, pained voice, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

”I told you Tommy. It’s _your_ fault, not mine. I wouldn’t do these things, if you weren’t so ungrateful and rude. Now, I want you to make your choice. Cat or Mellohi?”

” _Neither_ ,” Tommy whispers, “Please don’t make me choose.”

”Choose one, or I’m going to make you burn both,” Dream threatens, with an aggressive step forwards that makes Tommy flinch.

”I don’t want to,” he says stubbornly, despite the terror, in his voice. Techno feels a little flicker of pride, in his chest at his little brother’s defiance. 

The next moment seems to happen in slow motion. Dream snatches Tommy, by the collar of his shirt and slaps him across the face. _Hard_. And Technoblade sees _red_. Leaping out of the shadows, he levels his crossbow at Dream’s face. “Let go of my brother, _now_ , or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

Dream looks up, laughing, “I have full netherite, Technoblade. It’d barely feel like a bug bite.” He drops Tommy, who collapses into the sand and just lays there, without so much, as a complaint. Dream steps over the teen, not even pausing, when he doesn’t fully miss the boy, stepping down on Tommy’s outstretched arm. Technoblade shoots a bolt out of his crossbow, fury coursing throughout his entire body.

Dream twitches slightly, when it bounces off of his chest, but lets out a soft, deprecating laugh. “Pathetic,” he snorts.

”Fuck off,” Techno snarls, “I’m goin’ to gut you like a fish if you say another word.” Privately, he thinks that he’s going to gut the man, either way. Wordlessly, he takes a Strength Potion out of his cape, pops the cap off, and splashes it at the feet of himself, Phil, and Tubbo.

”I’d like to see you try,” Dream chuckles, “No, really! I would.”

”I was able to kill you without too much of a problem, last I checked,” Phil says, almost smugly.

Dream twitches, with either irritation, or remembrance, but defensively responds, “That was an entirely different scenario. I was unarmed, with no armor, and you attacked me.”

”Because you hurt my _son_ ,” Phil shouts furiously. 

”He’s an ungrateful, stupid child,” Dream yells, just as angrily, “I only ever treat him the way he deserves to be treated.”

”Nobody deserves to be treated like that. No _teenager_ should be treated like that,” Phil grits out.

Dream takes a few steps closer. “Tommy deserves _nothing_ ,” he says, voice low and dangerous once again, “You all know that. With everything he’s done on this server? He doesn’t deserve even an _ounce_ of kindness. You won’t be able to fake it for long, will you? Even _he_ must know that nobody _really_ cares about him.”

”Shut the fuck up,” Techno growls. He opens his mouth to speak further, but only manages to stare in open-mouthed shock, as Tubbo leaps onto Dream, with a wordless scream of fury.

Dream had clearly not been expecting the assault any more than Techno had, because the force of Tubbo’s initial hit is enough to knock him off of his feet. Tubbo rips Dream’s helmet off of his head, throwing it violently into the ocean. “I’m going to rip that stupid fucking mask off of your face,” Tubbo growls, as Dream kicks the teen off of him, foot catching Tubbo in the ribs. Both lay in the sand for a moment, gasping for breath, before scrambling to their feet, still breathing heavily.

”Phil, get Tommy. I’ll help Tubbo,” Techno says. Phil nods and rushes to where Tommy is still crumpled like a marionette, whose puppeteer has laid it aside for the day.

Dream and Tubbo are circling around each other, like wild animals, both clutching an axe, in one hand. Techno joins the circle, unsheathing his sword. “I’ve beaten you once before, Dream,” he reminds the other man, “What makes you so confident that I can’t do it again.”

”That was a lifetime ago,” Dream says, voice more strained than Techno has heard it in months, “I’ve changed. We both have. I hardly recognize you.”

”I know,” Techno agrees grimly, “I’m not sure I even know who you are anymore.”

”Good,” Dream mutters tersely, “I don’t think anybody does anymore.”

”Even you?” Techno asks pointedly, adjusting his grip on his sword. The pointedly careless shrug Dream gives him is response enough and Techno smiles stonily. “It’s sad, honestly,” he says, monotone voice betraying how much he _really_ feels for the man, “You had a lot of potential.”

”Oh, save me the lecture,” Dream snaps, “I’ve already gotten enough from Sapnap,” he puts on a false, whiny voice, in a cruel imitation of his former best friend, “Oh, Dream! You don’t act like the man, who was my best friend anymore! I don’t know you anymore! Gogy hasn’t changed like you have. I’m going to move in with him and my _oh-so-_ _perfect_ fiancés, because you’re too cruel now!” Dropping the false voice, he snarls, practically panting, with fury, “Well, I don’t give a shit what _he_ thinks and I certainly don’t care about the opinion of an old acquaintance.”

Techno smirks, “You sound pretty bothered, for somebody who doesn’t care. Y’know what _I_ think? I think you lost all of your powerful, little servants and now you’re powerless. It’s pretty pathetic that the only person you scare anymore is a traumatized teenager.”

With a roar of fury, Dream surged forward, slashing down, with his axe. In his wild rage, the swing is sloppy and Techno easily dodges it. Smiling, with vicious satisfaction, Techno aims his sword for the gap between the man’s chest plate and leggings. It hits exactly where Techno had hoped it would and Dream lets out a cry of pain, as he drops to the ground.

Placing his foot on Dream’s chest, Techno glares down at him. Tubbo tears the mask off of his face, with a darkly satisfied laugh. Techno stares down into his face, almost surprised, despite his prior knowledge of the man, to see a very real, very scared looking, young man.

”I _should_ let you die slowly. Let you bleed out here on the beach, perhaps? Or maybe, I can heal you right before you die and make you go through the pain all over again?” The twisted, dark part of him that his voices call ‘The Blood God’ enjoys the look of terror that crosses Dream’s face for a moment. “But I think I’ll be kind and show you some mercy.”

”You’re a _sick_ bastard,” Dream spits, glaring up at the piglin.

”You did this to yourself,” Techno says sternly, “Let me let you in on a little secret that you and I both know Dream. You’re not a god, or immortal. You’re just a powerful man, with powerful friends and a few extra lives.”

”Honestly, you should be thanking me,” Techno growls darkly, “I truly am being merciful to you.”

Dream stares balefully up at him, eyes clouded, with both pain and fear. “Tell me, Dream. Is this your last life?” Techno asks, in a conversational tone. Dream shakes his head once. “Are you telling me the truth?” He questions, voice dark, with the threat of more pain.

”Yes,” Dream grinds out, looking both pained and humiliated. _Good_ , Techno thinks viciously. The voices are more and morepleased, with every grunt of pain that is forced out of Dream’s chest and Techno can’t help, but agree with them.

”Oh, good. In that case, the pain of respawning will hurt you more than anything I can do to you... bar my previous threats, of course,” Techno says, in the same casual tone.

”I- I can give you chests full of diamonds, if you let me go,” Dream attempts to bargain.

Techno snorts, “Ah, yes. The rich man is going to be tempted by _more_ riches.”

”What about a Totem of Undying,” Dream says, in a tone that suggests that he expects Techno to agree to let him go, in exchange for a totem.

”Dream, you could offer me every valuable item on this server and I wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. You hurt _my family_ , Dream. And that’s not something I’m willing to forgive.” And, with that, he raises his sword and buries it in Dream’s exposed neck.

Dream coughs and splutters, for only a few seconds, before disappearing, in a cloud of black dust, the smell of ash and smoke nearly choking Techno and making Tubbo cough hard.

Breathing hard, Techno stares at the ground for a long moment, before looking up, to survey the scene before him. Tubbo is staring at him, with big, round eyes, looking both awed and fearful. Phil is watching, with a grim expression, supporting an unconscious Tommy.

“Well?” Techno says, swaying, as a wave of sudden exhaustion crashes over him, “We should go home and see how much medical attention Tommy needs.”

”Right,” Phil says, after a long moment, “Tubbo can help me carry Tommy. You can... relax a bit.”

Techno nods tightly and, without another word, they begin to make their slow way home. Techno can only think, with another surge of anger, that this whole night, must have set Tommy back considerably, in his recovery. Maybe, he shouldn’t have shown Dream mercy after all. But, with another glance at Tubbo’s still shaken countenance, he thinks that, perhaps, he’s done enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed Dream getting his ass kicked!  
> Me before writing this: *cracks knuckles* I knew me reading all of that batshit violence in Warrior Cats, as a child, would come in handy one day.
> 
> Any kudos/comments/bookmarks would be super appreciated! Fr, I’m actually REALLY proud of this chapter lmao and I hope you guys all liked it too.
> 
> I’m absolutely terrified for today’s stream so I’m pretending that I Do Not See. Also, this fic is over a month old now??? Poggers, but also goddamn that went by fast???


	19. Wake Up, You’re Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has a bad time. 
> 
> TW: child abuse. (but are you surprised at this point? Lol)
> 
> *title from Devil On My Shoulder by Faith Marie

Tommy feels nothing, but pain and terror. He had done his best to fight Dream, but the man had caught him in the arm, with his sword, before hitting him directly in the chest, with a Slowness Potion that had crept through his veins and left him exhausted. Dream hauls him through the snow; one hand wrapped around his uninjured arm and the other lightly gripping his hair. The one time Tommy tries to tug himself free, Dream tightens his grip on the blonde hair, pulling hard enough that the teen yelps and falls into frantic apologies.

” _Sorry_ _doesn’t cut it_ ,” Dream hisses and Tommy snaps his mouth shut, shivering from more than the cold. 

When they arrive at the beach, Tommy’s heart sinks to his stomach. He knows this beach. He knows this beach much too well. Dream releases him, but, the moment Tommy tries, desperately, to scramble away, the taller man shoves him roughly, in the back, making Tommy fall to his knees, in the sand. Tommy cringes, as Dream shakes his head, clucking his tongue, in disappointment. 

”Oh, Tommy,” the masked man sighs, “You never learn, do you?” The boy hates the way that Dream is looming over him. “Give me your armor, Tommy,” Dream orders, gesturing to the chestplate that Tommy had hastily strapped on, when the man had burst through the open window.

”Wh-what?” Tommy stutters out, already automatically reaching to tug off the gear.

Dream kicks up a hole in the sand and says, voice harsh and biting, “Put your armor in the hole, Tommy.”

Tommy’s hands shake violently, as he struggles to unbuckle his chestplate. He jumps, when Dream snaps impatiently. “I-I’m trying,” he stammers, only succeeding in making his hands shake harder. 

”I have to do everything myself, don’t I?” Dream growls, marching over to Tommy and slapping his hands out of the way, in order to unstrap the chestplate himself, none too gently. He doesn’t pretend that it’s an accident, when he lets the armor roughly hit the back of Tommy’s head, as he lifts it up.

”I’m sorry,” Tommy whimpers, flinching at Dream’s irritated huff.

”You’re welcome for helping you take that off, after everything you did to me, by the way,” Dream shakes his head, sounding so hurt and disappointed that Tommy feels an immense wave of guilt rush through his chest.

”Thank you, Dream,” he whispers and Dream laughs quietly.

A hand comes down on Tommy’s head and the teen flinches, sure that, somehow, he had fucked up again. Instead of inflicting pain, however, Dream just pats his head softly, with something like satisfaction. Tommy truly hates the way he leans into the praising touch automatically. “Good, good,” Tommy can hear the smile, in his voice and it sends a shiver of fear down his spine, “You’re not too far gone, are you Tommy?

Expecting Dream to want _him_ to light the TNT, Tommy begins to struggle to his feet. A cold voice stops him, in his tracks, “I don’t recall telling you to move, Tommy.” Dropping back onto his knees hastily, he lowers his gaze, not wanting to look at the blank smile, on the man’s mask. Dream gives his injured arm a warning squeeze that makes Tommy let out a cry of pain.

“You fucked up, Tommy,” Dream reminds him, voice dark and terrifying, as he walks towards the hole, in the sand, “You were ungrateful, you disrespected me, and you ran away. Don’t expect me to be lenient, with a rude, stupid child, like you, anymore,” Tommy feels too small; like an insignificant, chastised _pet_. A small part of him recognizes that that’s exactly what Dream _wants_ him to feel like.

“I’m your friend, Tommy,” Dream says, voice softening somewhat, “And I really _am_ sorry that you’re making me hurt you like this.” With that, Dream drops the chestplate into the hole. Lighting a small stick of dynamite, he drops it into the hole next.

The resulting explosion makes Tommy flinch violently, clamping his hands over his ears. He’s not sure, when he’d started crying. “Tommy.” He ignores the voice, eyes squeezed shut, in terror. ”Tommy!” He doesn’t _mean_ to ignore the voice, but he’s having trouble controlling his own limbs at the moment.

Someone rips his hands away from his ears, shouting again, “Tommy. Pay attention.”

”Sorry, sorry,” he says frantically, trying to tug his hands out of the man’s too-tight grip and Dream makes a noise of dissatisfaction, not releasing the teen.

”I was telling you to give me either Mellohi, or Cat,” Dream hisses, “Make your decision and make it quick.”

Something in Tommy’s brain shuts off at these words and the next few minute pass, in a distant haze. He vaguely recognizes that he’s arguing, with Dream. The rational part of his brain is screaming at him to stop, but he doesn’t shut his mouth, until a sharp slap jolts him back to reality, if only for a moment. 

He distantly recognizes that someone that sounds like Technoblade is talking and is too shocked and confused to care about being tossed to the ground, like a ragdoll. Dream walks over him, as if he isn’t even there and the teen lets out a quiet sob, due, in part, to pain and, in part, to humiliation at being treated, as no better than a stepping stool.

He struggles to stay conscious, staying awake long enough to hear Dream accusing Technoblade and the others of not being able to pretend tocare about Tommy for much longer, before succumbing to the blessed darkness that had been begging to claim him all night. He never hears Techno’s answer. He’s not sure if he wants to.

—————

When he wakes, he’s not laying on the cold, wet sand of the beach at Logstedshire anymore. Instead, he’s laying on a warm bed, soft blankets covering him, up to his chin. He’s grateful that Dream had allowed him a bed tonight, wondering what he had done to deserve it. He can feel the weight of bandages around his arm and is even more surprised. It was only on days that he had been particularly good, that Dream would help to heal his wounds.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s stunned to see the, now-familiar, dark wooden walls of Techno’s cabin. Sharply sitting up in bed, he looks around frantically. Technoblade is sitting by his bed and Tommy realizes, with a jolt, that he’s in _Techno’s_ room, not his own. “Tommy?” Techno says his name cautiously.

Tommy feels frozen, in place. There’s too big a part of him that is still terrified of moving. Terrified of disobeying Dream. “Techno?” He tries to speak, but his voice is scratchy and dry. He realizes vaguely that it’s probably due to how hard he had been crying, on that cursed beach.

Techno snatches up a glass of water that had been on the night stand, with a speed that makes Tommy flinch. The older man holds out the glass to Tommy, who just stares for a long moment, before cautiously reaching out to take it from his older brother. He almost expects Techno to yank it out of his shaking hands, before it can even reach his lips. He downs it all, in one gulp, just in case Techno is planning on taking it back. 

”Techno,” he says again, relinquishing the glass, without a struggle, when Techno reaches for it. “How- how am I here? How did you get me away from- from _him_?”

”I fought him,” Techno responds grimly, “Well, Tubbo helped. Let’s just say, you won’t have to see him again for a _long_ time.”

”Y-you took one of his lives?” Tommy guesses quietly and Techno nods.

”Do you think you can walk, or do you want to stay in bed for a while longer?” Techno asks.

Tommy’s silent for a long moment, finally deciding that, rather than get something wrong, because he was too prideful, he would ask for permission first. ”I- I’m allowed to move?” He asks, very quietly.

A flash of something like anger, tinged with sadness, crosses Techno’s face and Tommy wants to apologize immediately and move on, but, before he can do so, Techno says softly, “Of course, you’re allowed to move, Toms. I don’t control you any more, than I ever have been before.”

Tommy eyes him, with more than a little doubt. He had been under the impression that Techno had been in charge, ever since Tommy had set foot in his house. Cautiously, however, he slides out of bed, keeping a wary eye on Technoblade the whole time.

Techno keeps his hands in his lap, where Tommy can see them, not even looking at the teen. “Can- can I go to the bathroom for a minute, before we do... whatever it is you had in mind. I- I’ll be fast, I promise and I won’t... I won’t...” Tommy trails off, losing track of whatever he had been saying.

Tommy feels lost, almost, as he stands there, with a bandaged arm, his whole body still aching. Techno gives him a soft, sad look of understanding that doesn’t belong on his face, as he responds, “Of course, Tommy. Take as long as you need.”

Tommy stumbles to the bathroom, legs not quite working properly, making sure to lock the door behind him. He stares into the mirror, hardly recognizing the boy it reflects. His arm is wrapped in thick, white bandages and Tommy can barely lift it without a considerable amount of pain.

There are dark circles under his eyes and the little color that he had been able to regain over the weeks that he had spent, in Techno's cabin, is gone again. Instead, he looks deathly pale, a sharp contrast to the ugly, purple bruise spread across his cheek. His hair is a mess, sticking up wildly, in some spots, and flattened to his head, in others.

He shudders, desperately trying to brush it out, with a brush that had been sitting on the counter. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop feeling the controlling feeling of Dream’s hand, in his hair, whether to punish or to praise. He nearly drops the brush, when he notices the beginning of bruises on the backs of his hands. He turns the sink on, sticking his hands into the freezing cold water, scrubbing frantically, in a futile attempt to get the feeling of Dream’s hands (too-rough and too-soft, all at once) off of himself.

He looks up into the mirror again and wonders when the hell he had started crying. Tears roll down his cheeks, as he scrubs at his face, with the water, as well, ignoring the way it stings. Giving up, he leans on the sink, shoulders shaking, with silent cries. He can’t get the feeling of Dream’s too-controlling hands off of his skin, or the sound of Dream’s voice out of his head.

He’s grateful that his family had rescued him. He really is. But he can’t help, but think that he had made a mistake, in beginning to trust that they truly cared about him. He would have to be more cautious, from now on. He can’t give them reason to hurt him, or kick him out.

He’s been too careless lately and it’s going to get him hurt. So, with his new resolution, he forces himself to stop crying, washes away the tear tracks, and walks back out of the bathroom, a layer of false confidence settled firmly over him, hiding the fear beneath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Kudos/comments/bookmarks are always extremely appreciated. This chapter actually hurt to write. ;-;. I’m in a weird mood though, so... come get ya’lls angst juice.
> 
> Also...um... 50,000 fucking hits??? What the fuck??? You guys are too nice to me, it isn’t fair. You’re making me feel emotions and that is just rude /j Fr though, I am in absolute shock over how many people like this dumb little, self-indulgent story. Just thank you guys so much. Love you all lots <3
> 
> (On a mini rant note: /rp /rp /rp TO ANY OF THE FUCKERS ON TOMMY’S STREAM ON THE 21ST WHO ARE PITYING DREAM. DREAM. IS. MANIPULATING. ALL. OF. YOU. HE’S BEEN IN JAIL FOR ONE FUCKING DAY. HE’S ABUSIVE AND MANIPULATIVE AND IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES. LET THE GREEN BOY FUCKING ROT.) again, this is all roleplay lmao


	20. I Won’t Last Long All Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy’s doing his best to seem unaffected.
> 
> *title from You, Me, and the End - by Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW for implied suicidal thoughts. (It’s only like one line)

It’s not very difficult to find the rest of the family. All three are talking, albeit quietly, in the direction of the kitchen, so Tommy makes his way there. “ ‘Ow do, bitches?” It’s very similar to what he had said back on that very first day, but he feels, as if he’s in a very similar mental state.

Tubbo springs up, from the chair he had been sitting in and practically tackles Tommy, in a hug. Tommy winces, as the older boy squeezes a few of his bruises a bit too tight, but doesn’t complain, instead electing to hug back just as hard. “Tommy,” Tubbo says, as he pulls back, sounding almost nervous, “How are you, big man?”

”I’m doing just fine, Big T,” Tommy lies through his teeth, grinning lopsidedly. Phil comes to greet him next and Tommy’s grateful that he doesn’t hold, as tightly as Tubbo had.

”It’s good to see you back, mate. You were out for about a day there. We were getting worried, kiddo,” Phil says kindly, rubbing Tommy’s uninjured arm gently, as he steps back.

”Good to _be_ back, Big P,” Tommy says, perfectly truthfully. Techno is eyeing him, with an odd, worried look, on his face. Tommy shuffles uncomfortably, turning his head away, so that Techno can no longer see his face.

”You feelin’ a bit better than you were, Toms?” Techno asks and Tommy hums in agreement, turning back to look at his older brother again, though not quite able to meet his eyes. So what, if he’s lying? He doesn’t want to worry his family any more than they already had been; and he doesn’t want to burden them, with his complicated emotions. 

Instead of hugging Tommy, Techno reaches out and ruffles Tommy’s hair. Tommy stiffens at the touch, ducking out of reach of his brother’s hand, before he can think about how strange it might look. Memories of crookedly drawn smiles and poisonous whispers, threaten to make Tommy sick to his stomach, for a moment; and he darts to sit at the far end of the table, out of the way of prodding hands. 

Upon noticing Techno’s expression (something like anger and confusion rolled into one) Tommy ducks his head, muttering, “Sorry, sorry. I just- I dunno, it was stupid. Shouldn’t have done it...”

”It’s, uh, it’s fine, Tommy. I’m not angry or anythin’,” Techno says quickly and Tommy nods sharply. _It was okay. It didn’t make Techno mad. Nobody’s going to reach for him, with intention to hurt._ Somehow, it doesn’t convince Tommy all that well.

Tubbo sits next to him, while they eat a good-sized breakfast, made by Phil, and Tommy hates his presence, as much as he appreciates it. He tries to stay present, even though he’s starting to feel trapped, _trapped, trapped_ _._ He’s pretty sure that he’s allowed to eat, so he takes a cautious bite, looking around nervously. When nobody shouts at him, he releases a relieved breath and tries not to eat the rest of his food too quickly.

“I noticed that you lost your chestplate,” Techno says and Tommy freezes. 

”And?” He snaps, maybe a bit _too_ defensively.

”And I made you a new one, while you were...asleep,” Techno responds, with a thin smile. 

”Oh,” Tommy says blankly and he hates the way three pairs of eyes are trained on him. Shoving his chair back from the table, he gets to his feet, in an attempt to feel more in control of himself. “Why?” He adds, with a questioning look at Techno.

”Because I had the materials,” Techno explains, shrugging, “And I, uh, I felt... bad. For letting Dream... do _that_ to you.”

Tommy flinches at the mention of Dream, feeling a wall crash down over his face and wondering vaguely, if it had been visible. He wonders what that would be like. To have a visible, tangible wall to cover his face and hide his emotions from the world. He wonders what it would be like to have a mask. He hates masks and the people behind them, but he envies the ability to hide away so very easily.

Maybe, with a way to hide in plain sight, he’d be able to laugh about things that send pangs of grief, or spikes of panic through his chest. Maybe he’d be able to pretend that he isn’t a coward. “-ommy?” He realizes, with a start, that somebody had been speaking.

”What?” He says, voice softer than he had meant it to be.

”Tommy, mate, you zoned out on us there,” Phil chuckles, but it makes Tommy flinch.

”Sorry. I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.” Before anyone can say anything, in return, he loudly says, “Well, let’s see that chestplate, eh, big man? My last one _did_ get a bit scuffed, if I’m being honest.” 

Tommy forces himself to ignore Phil’s worried frown and Tubbo’s concerned expression, instead focusing on following Techno down to his basement workroom. Tubbo catches up quickly, slipping his hand into Tommy’s, as they walk. His presence is just as comforting, as it always has been and it helps to ground the younger teen. “I’m not letting you enter the den of the monster alone,” Tubbo jokes and Tommy laughs quietly, a far cry, from his usual easy, screeching laugh.

”I am, in fact, right here, Tubbo,” Techno says dryly, but Tommy’s pretty sure he’s smiling. 

The workroom is dimly lit, at the moment, but, sitting on the workbench, is a pristine looking, netherite chestplate, glowing softly, with enchantments. Tommy glances nervously between it and Techno; some immovable force, in the back of his mind, telling him that he shouldn’t touch it, unless he’s certain that he’s allowed. There’s a moment of awkward silence, before Techno clears his throat uncomfortably, saying, “You can, uh, you can take it.”

Tommy immediately snatches it up, with both hands, examining it, with genuine excitement. A moment later, however, a thought occurs to him and his face falls. “What- what do you want for it?” He asks quietly, staring at the ground.

”What?” Techno sounds surprised, “I don’t want _anythin’_. It’s just a gift, Tommy. Take it.”

Tommy eyes him disbelievingly, but hums, in something like agreement, tugging the armor closer to himself. “I’ll... I’ll stick it in my ender chest, shall I?” His voice comes out much less confident than he had wanted it to and he winces at how unsure he sounds.

”Go ahead,” Techno shrugs, “I don’t particularly mind _what_ you do.”

” _Particularly_ ,” Tommy mocks, shaking his head, “What is it with you and big ass words, Technoblade?” Teasing his brother isn’t nearly as fun, as it usually is, for some reason. Tommy hopes it isn’t too obvious.

“My apologies,” Techno gives him a mock bow, lips twitching, “I forgot that I was in the presence of the illiterate.”

”Just because I’m not a nerd, doesn’t mean I can’t read,” Tommy shoots back, smiling to himself at Techno’s exasperated eye roll.

”Well, I _can’t_ read, so what does that make _me_?” Tubbo says, with a grin.

”You tell me,” Techno shrugs.

”Well, what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Tubbo asks, with faux indignation, “Good to know you hate dyslexic people.”

”I never said that!” Techno says, hastily backtracking.

Tommy leaves them to their argument, slipping back upstairs to safely store his new armor, in the ender chest. His and Tubbo’s room appears to have been cleaned up somewhat; the furniture is all, at least, upright again. There are chips, in the once unmarked wood and paint is peeling, on the side of Tommy’s bed.

It doesn’t take long to store the chestplate and Tommy finds himself wandering to the, firmly shut and locked, window. He leans on the windowsill to see that the snow has already covered up all traces of the struggle that had occurred below. It’s just as beautiful and silent, as it had been before. It’s as if nothing had ever happened.

Tommy wants, more than anything, to believe that it _hadn’t_. He wants to believe that the phantom touches, in his hair and on his hands and on his face, are nothing more than an overactive imagination. He wants to believe that he doesn’t have Dream’s cruel, noxious words playing in his head over and over again, like a broken record player that only plays sounds of vitriol and hate.

He especially wants to believe that he doesn’t still have a quiet voice of his own, reminding him of just how easy it would be to snuff the painful memories out.

”Hey, Toms,” a low voice makes him jump and he turns his head to see Tubbo lean against the windowsill beside him. Tommy smiles slightly at him, in greeting, unable to muster the energy, or the will, to speak. “Big man thinkin’ big thoughts, huh?” Tubbo asks softly, bumping his own arm against Tommy’s lightly.

Tommy shrugs, pressing his arm against Tubbo’s, by way of a response. "You know that you don't have to pretend to be okay, when it's just us, right?" Tubbo asks and Tommy ducks his head. He _knows, he really does, but sometimes it's hard to remember._ "Well, I like to think that I'm not quite as stupid, as people think I am," Tubbo says, with a little smile, "And I like to think that I know you pretty well, Tommy. I don't know what _he_ did to you, either time, but I know it was nothing good."

Tommy is very still, as he listens to Tubbo speak and grows even stiller at his next words, "I don't know what he said to you, Toms, but please just know that I love you, alright, big man?"

Tommy nods, his heart clenching, with fondness for his best friend, _his brother_."Yeah, I love you too, Tubs," Tommy rolls his eyes, "That was all sappy and shit, wasn't it?"

"Mm," Tubbo observes, "Yeah, most definitely. But it's okay to be sappy sometimes, I think."

"Whatever you say, Big T," Tommy chuckles lightly.

"I am just the most intelligent and profound person alive, aren't I?" Tubbo smirks and Tommy pretends not to be amused.

The two don't leave that spot for a long while, leaning against each other and staring out into the glittering, white snow. It calms something in Tommy's mind and, though he knows that he isn't anywhere close to being 'better', he allows the distraction to temporarily silence the painful memories and is grateful that, for once, his mind is silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this! It’s somehow slightly less angsty than the past few chapters lmao. I’m really happy with how the last bit turned out ngl
> 
> Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are super appreciated!
> 
> So... how ‘bout Awesamdude’s face reveal?? He’s just as cute as he sounds imo. I managed to catch it live, which was poggers!


	21. Cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy’s having a hard time pretending he’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Past child abuse, mild dissociation (i think???? I’m basing some of this off of what happens to me on bad days and idk if it’s dissociation or not??? But I want to err on the side of caution lol)
> 
> Stay safe, lovelies, and enjoy :]

It turns out that keeping up the pretense of being alright, when you’re decidedly _not_ , is harder than it might seem. Over the next couple of days, Tommy finds it more and more difficult to hide his, often negative, emotions. He’s almost sure that Techno and Phil are suspicious, but he laughs off their concerned looks and waves away worried questions.

Sometimes, he excuses it, by the presence of Ghostbur. He can’t make Ghostbur sad, so that means that he can’t _say_ anything sad, but besides, he doesn’t have anything sad to say anyway. It would probably be more convincing, if his hands and arms weren’t stained blue again. The blue really does help, somehow, though everybody else he’s seen it offered to just looks confused and mildly amused.

He remembers vaguely that it never _used_ to work on him. Not before what had been, arguably, the worst day of his life. Not before he had been manipulated and beaten down, into a shadow of his former self. Not before the bubbling and popping of lava had begun to sing an enchanting tune for him. But now, he understands what Ghostbur means, when he says to pour his sadness into the blue. Tommy wonders, sometimes, if Ghostbur feels the same way he does. If so, he thinks, the ghost is much better at hiding it, than the boy.

It’s getting more challenging to hide instinctive flinches at angry voices and to hide the fact that his first instinct, after perceiving anything to be a mistake, is still to apologize and simply wait for whatever punishment they decide that he deserves. It’s getting near impossible to hide the fact that someone ruffling his hair, or running their hands through it, doesn’t comfort him, like it used to. Instead, it makes him feel almost sick to his stomach, and, whenever it happens, he just wants to crawl under the covers of his bed, where it feels safer, and hide away forever.

Tommy hates that Dream has managed to ruin yet another thing for him. It’s not fair, he tells himself, during late, sleepless nights, when he feels more alone then ever. It’s not fair that Dream has managed to completely break him. It’s not fair that it had only taken a week for him to flinch away from loud noises and quick movements and it’s not fair that it had only taken three, before he had been begging Dream to stay with him, even as he cowered away from his every word and movement; like a beaten, starved _dog_.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking _fair_.

His walls finally crumble, only a few days after he had regained consciousness. He wakes up, gasping quietly for breath, from a vaguely unsettling dream that had left him shaky. He can’t recall much of what had happened, only remembering vague images of pitch dark nights and satisfied laughs, just as dark. 

Tommy’s already on edge, when he joins the other three for breakfast. Somehow, the twitchiness only gets worse, when he sits down and realizes that both Technoblade _and_ Philza are separating him from Tubbo. Sometimes, on days like this, Tubbo’s his only lifeline to stay grounded in reality. He doesn’t want to make a fuss about it, however. He’s sixteen years old, for the sake of the End, he doesn’t need to hold his best friend’s hand at all times.

After all, it doesn’t seem like Tubbo cares very much about it, so why should _Tommy_? Maybe, he thinks later, it would have been better in the long run, if he had just switched seats right then and there. It’s more little things like that, just adding up, that make him crack.

When Techno passes Tommy his food, he moves just a little too fast and it Tommy tenses every muscle in his body, in an effort not to flinch. When Phil pats his shoulder, on his way to sit down, before Tommy had even seen him coming, the teen nearly jumps out of his skin. Phil apologizes immediately, but the only thing Tommy can do, in response, is a tight-lipped nod, as he tries to calm his racing heart.

He does his best to take deep, measured breaths as he eats; keeping his head bowed, in order to ignore the pointed looks Tubbo is giving him. _You have to eat Tommy_. Tommy keeps his grip on his fork tight, as if he can force away the tremor in his hands. _You have to keep breathing, Tommy_. When he finishes his meal, he pushes away the plate and quickly hides his hands, in his lap, keeping his head bowed. _You have to look up, eventually, Tommy._

It’s almost funny, the way that normal, everyday actions aren’t automatic sometimes. He shifts positions sharply at the wave of dizziness that suddenly hits him, shutting his eyes tight. Someone asks him if he’s okay and he feels his mouth shape the response, “I’m fine.” 

He hears three identical hums of disbelief and wills himself to look up. But he can’t. He can’t look up. He just can’t do it. Sometimes Dream doesn’t like it, when he makes eye contact, but, on other days, he gets angry, when Tommy _can’t_ make eye contact. He wonders what it’ll be today. He reminds himself a moment later that he isn’t _with_ Dream anymore. It doesn’t make him any more capable of lifting his head.

One of them, most likely Phil, runs a hand through his hair, in what is certainly _meant_ to be a comforting way. It has about the exact opposite effect on Tommy. A shudder runs down his spine and he tenses under the touch, forgetting to breath, for a moment. When his lungs start screaming for oxygen, he takes a too-shallow, gasping breath. The hand is still in his hair and he hates it, he hates it, he _hates_ it. Because he knows that it can turn to pain at any moment. 

So, he does the only thing he can think to do and throws himself out of his chair, with a desperation that clearly startles the others. “Don’t-“ he gasps, voice too thin and brittle, for his own liking, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He wraps his arms around himself, ignoring the dull ache of pain, in his still recovering sword wound. “Tommy,” Phil says, voice gentle, “You need to talk to us, kiddo. What happened to you, Toms?” The teen looks up at them all through his bangs, hugging himself tighter.

”Why?” He asks, voice dull, “Why do you want to know? I’m just fucked up, aren’t I? Why do the details matter?”

“We want to help you, Tommy,” Tubbo jumps in, “And we can help more if we know what happened.” Techno nods awkwardly, in agreement and, in any other situation, it might have made Tommy laugh.

Tommy rocks nervously, on the balls of his feet, before quietly saying, “Is it- is it okay, if I don’t necessarily tell you _everything_?”

”Of course,” Phil says immediately, “Only tell us what you feel comfortable sharing.”

”I don’t want to sit down,” Tommy frowns, when Techno gestures to the teen’s abandoned chair.

”Suit yourself,” Techno shrugs and sits back in his own chair, adopting an air of passive attentiveness.

”Well, he, uh, he got my arm a bit scuffed up, with his sword pretty much immediately,” Tommy laughs nervously, “But, I’m a big man so it didn’t stop me from fighting back. He got me with a slowness potion pretty quick after that and,” he shrugs, “I guess you all know what happened.”

”I was... I was so scared,” he admits, voice cracking, “And he- he was dragging me by the hair and he wouldn’t let go.” He sounds too young, too scared, but he can’t find it in himself to care anymore. After that, most of what had happened on that night comes out, in a rush. He stumbles, when he gets to the part, when he had had to give up his armor, but does his best to push through it.

He actually feels physically sick, when he starts to tell of the way that Dream had stroked his hair, when he had thanked the older man, so he skips over most of it. Breathing shakily, he tells the rest of the story; ending lamely, with a muttered, "And then, uh, you guys got there and I passed the fuck out, so... yeah."

He finally properly looks at the others, for the first time, since he had begun his story and is almost surprised to find an array of emotions, on their faces. Tubbo looks heartbroken, eyes shining, with tears and Phil looks just as grieved. There's anger present on every face, but Techno looks willing to murder someone, right then and there.

"Tommy, mate, can I hug you?" Phil asks, after a beat of silence. Tommy finds himself nodding, before his brain can catch up with his actions. Phil is wrapping him in a tight hug, in an instant and Tommy feels safe and comforted, when soft, feathery wings wrap around him, as well.

Screwing up his face against Phil's shoulder, he does his best to resist the urge to cry. If a few tears slip out, when Phil starts to murmur soft words of comfort, nobody says anything. "Group hug," Tubbo declares loudly and squirms his way between Phil's wings, clinging to Tommy, with the air of someone who couldn't be pried away for the world.

Techno hovers awkwardly, until Phil beckons him over, with a little smirk on his face. "Come on, mate, we don't bite," he teases.

Tommy laughs, when Techno screws up his face. "Chat's saying 'Technohug' now," Techno pouts and Phil laughs.

"Well, you should give them what they want, right?" Tubbo says proddingly. Techno sighs dramatically, but joins the hug without further argument. 

There, sandwiched between the three people he's closest to in the world, Tommy thinks that, perhaps, in time he _will_ get better. Part of him is still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the strings attached to be brought forward. For now, however, he allows himself to think that these people don't have any ulterior motives. He allows himself to think that those he loves, truly love him in return. And, just for a moment, he believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are always hella appreciated!
> 
> Also, would any of ya’ll be interested in an Awesamdad one-shot, bc Sam Nook is just,,, so,,, comforting,,, and I want to give canon-timeline Tommy comfort lmao UPDATE: THE FIC IS OUT! GO READ IF YOU'RE INTERESTED!
> 
> Btw, you ever- you ever just- you ever just listen to Heat Waves by Glass Animals to numb your brain? Bc i sure do.


	22. It Was Pouring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new guest :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief mention of suicide (but it’s not real)

It’s not many days later, when a knock comes in the middle of the night. It’s quiet and timid and doesn’t sound likely to be Dream, but they all tense anyway. Phil makes a shushing motion at Ghostbur, when it looks as if the ghost is about to call out to the visitor. Tommy and Tubbo both tense, drawing back into a corner, as Techno rises to his feet to look out of the window.

”It’s just that- that new kid,” he says, after a long, tense moment, “Ranboo, I think his name is.” He opens the door and the enderman hybrid stumbles into the cabin, shivering from head to foot. His skin is sizzling slightly and Techno gives him a worried look, as he instinctively steadies the kid.

”Thank you,” Ranboo chokes out, swaying on his feet, “I’m- I’m so sorry for bothering you, but I got lost and- and it was _pouring_.”

”Hey, hey, easy there, kid,” Techno says, shooting Phil a panicked glance, “You’re not botherin’ me. Why the hell were you out in a rain storm?”

”He- he told me to,” Ranboo seems near tears and Techno looks even more panicked.

”Who? Was it Dream?” Techno asks worriedly.

”No, it was Quackity,” Ranboo shakes his head, “He’s been in charge ever since Tubbo disappeared and- and oh gods, I shouldn’t have told you that. You’re an enemy of the state and I just told you that our _president_ is missing.”

”You’re hyperventilatin’, enderchild,” Techno says, “You need to calm down. Maybe _Phil will help you out_ ,” he adds pointedly.

”Phil?” Ranboo says weakly, “I- I haven’t seen you since- I’m- I’m so sorry about Tommy, Phil. We should have done better, we should have _been_ better.“ Techno hasn’t got a clue what Ranboo’s talking about and, by the perplexed look on Phil’s face, neither does he.

”It’s okay, it’s okay.” Phil responds, wrapping an arm around Ranboo’s shoulders and guiding him to sit down on the couch, “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you for a while. I’ve been, er, really busy.”

Ranboo hisses in pain, as the backs of his hands brush the arm of the couch. “Does rain melt you too?” Ghostbur asks interestedly, “I can’t go out in the snow or the rain.”

Ranboo nods tightly, his face contorted in pain and it’s only then that Techno notices the large fizzling patch on the boy’s cheek. “Techno, do we have healing potions?” Phil asks, looking up at the piglin hybrid.

Techno nods and rushes off to gather the potions, leaving Phil to calm Ranboo’s panicked breathing. “I thought I was going to die,” he’s saying, when Techno returns and _fuck_ , Phil just adopted another child, didn’t he?

Techno can see the familiar protective look, in his father’s face and he rolls his eyes at him, when he hands the man a healing potion. “Well, you can stay with us for a while, kid,” Phil smiles reassuringly at Ranboo, who downs the healing potion in one go.

”Is it just you two here?” Ranboo asks and Techno and Phil glance at each other.

”Um, not... exactly,” Techno starts slowly.

” ‘Ey, bitch!” Tommy says, his voice loud and rough, just like it always used to be.

”Hi, Ranboo,” Tubbo emerges from the shadows next to Tommy, waving slightly.

Ranboo flatly gapes at them both. An odd gurgling noise erupts out of the teen’s chest and Techno recognizes it as the cry of a distressed enderman. “Tommy? Tubbo?” He says, voice shaking, “Dream told us that you were _dead_ , Tommy.”

”What?” Tommy recoils, “But- but Fundy knows that I’m alive! Why didn’t he tell you all?”

”If he really does know that you’re alive, he didn’t say a word to any of us,” Ranboo says, shaking his head.

”He- he _saw_ me, only like a month ago!” Tommy protests, “You- you thought I was _dead_?”

”Dream told us you killed yourself,” Ranboo responds dully, “He said... he said that it was _our_ fault for what we did to you. I’ve felt terrible, Tommy.”

Tommy flinches at Ranboo’s words and Techno can see a myriad of emotions in the teen’s eyes, one replacing the other faster than Tommy seems to be able to process them. He settles on something like resignation. “Of course he did,” he says flatly, not quite meeting Ranboo’s eyes, “If- if I had killed myself it would have been because of _Dream_. Not any of you.”

”Tommy, what...” Ranboo looks completely baffled and Techno doesn’t really blame him. Seeing someone who had been presumed dead is definitely not what anybody would expect. “And Tubbo,” Ranboo says, “You’ve been missing for a _month_. What- where have you been?”

”I traveled for a while,” Tubbo explains, “I was looking for Tommy. When he wasn’t at his exile base I followed- I followed that compass that Ghostbur gave me, until I... found him.”

”Where was he?” Ranboo questions, clearly desperate for more concrete information.

Tubbo and Tommy share a look. A conversation passes between them silently and Techno is reminded sharply of back when they had all been children. Now, however, instead of sparkling eyes and barely concealed smiles, they look at each other with furrowed brows and downturned lips. “I found him here, big man,” Tubbo finally answers, lips twitching up, in an attempt at a smile.

Ranboo narrows his eyes in consideration, but shrugs and seems to accept the answer. “And why are _you_ here?” Techno asks, “And who knows where you are.”

”Nobody knows where I am,” Ranboo says, looking miserable, “At- at least... I don’t _think_ so.” He pauses, fishing a notebook out of one of his pockets. Giving the most recent page a quick scan he snaps it shut again, with a nod. “Yeah, nobody knows where I am.”

”What’s that, big man?” Tommy asks, gesturing towards the notebook.

”It’s my memory book,” Ranboo shrugs, looking embarrassed, “I have trouble remembering things, so I write everything important here.”

”Oh, right!” Tubbo grins, “Memory Boy needs his memory book!”

Ranboo clears his throat awkwardly and Tubbo laughs softly. “Um, well, I got lost, because Quackity sent me out to... to, uh,” the enderman looks down at the wood floor and prods it with the toe of one of his boots, “He sent me out to look for _you_ , Tubbo.”

”Why?” Tubbo asks, sounding surprised, “I told you all that I was going to take a long while off, didn’t I? I put Big Q in charge! I thought he’d love that.”

Ranboo cringes, “He, er, he _does_ love it, actually. Maybe- maybe a little _too_ much.”

”Ranboo, I don’t-“ Tubbo is wearing the expression of someone who is firmly in denial. The look in his eyes screams that he’s already seen this scenario play out too many times. Three times, to be exact. Technoblade feels a stab of pity and glowers, when chat, predictably, has a field day about it. _Technosoft! Hug the children! Comfort the sad children!_

“He sent me out to bring you back to L’Manburg,” Ranboo continues slowly, “And... I’m not sure that he wanted to do anything nice to you.”

Pain lances through Tubbo’s face for a moment, before it closes off completely. “Okay,” he says, voice strong, despite the little quiver, in his chin, “Okay, big man.”

Tommy lets Tubbo grab his hand, the older looking as if he needs the pressure to stay upright. “And he told _me_ not to turn into Schlatt,” Tubbo mutters bitterly.

Ranboo looks pained, “Tubbo...”

”It’s fine,” Tubbo snaps, laughing humorlessly, “It’s fine. I just thought that- that for _once_ I could trust somebody I cared about with something important. But nobody can ever do a _single_ thing for me. _Ever_. Even when it’s for their own _fucking good_.”

Tommy flinches, drawing away from the older teen. Ranboo winces, a flash of remembrance crossing his face. Techno glances at Phil, who looks just as confused Techno _feels_. Something like guilt flashes in Tubbo’s eyes, for a moment, but he looks away from Tommy, wrapping his arms around himself. 

He looks at Ranboo, instead, “So? Gonna sell me out Ranboo? Wouldn’t be the first time a tyrant has had me murdered.” Techno nearly flinches at the implications, but Tubbo is standing now, looking prepared for a fight.

”No!” Ranboo says hastily, who has slowly risen to his feet, as well, “No! I promise, I came to _warn_ you.”

”How do I know that you’re telling the truth?” Tubbo’s eyes are narrowed and the height difference would have been almost comical, if Tubbo didn’t look so serious and Ranboo so desperate.

”You can read my memory book!” Ranboo says, holding the aforementioned book out like a peace offering. 

Tubbo studies the enderman hybrid’s face for a moment longer, before collapsing back into the chair he had been seated in. “I believe you,” he says quietly, “I believe you, Ranboo.” Burying his face in his hands, he groans, “Why does nobody on this _godforsaken_ server care about _people_ more than power, or objects?”

Nobody has a good response to that, so they remain in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, before Tubbo speaks up again. "I have to go back to L'Manburg. I need to take Quackity out of any position of power, before he can do something irreparable," he says, with conviction, "I'll go tomorrow."

"Tubbo..." Phil starts, "You're _seventeen_! You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"It's my responsibility, Philza," Tubbo says dully, "L'Manburg has been my responsibility since Wilbur called me up to that stage and I've left her for too long."

"Well, at the least, you aren't goin' alone," Techno puts in, crackiing his knuckles, "I'm always down to overthrow a government official or two." Chat roars, with excitement and Techno grins.

"I'm with you too, of course," Phil agrees.

"Dunno how much use I'll be in a fight, but I stand behing you, Tubbo," Ranboo agrees.

"I'm coming too," Tommy speaks up, before looking away slightly, "That is, if- if you'll have me, of course."

"Of course I will," Tubbo says immediately, "I'm sorry for what I said, Tommy," he adds, voice softening.

"It's alright," Tommy shrugs awkwardly, "I know you didn't mean it like that."

They all go to bed, with plans to leave for L'Manburg the day after next. They each retire into their seperate rooms (Ranboo's long limbs sprawled across the couch, where he falls asleep quickly.)

Techno dreams of bloodshed that no longer fills him with satisfaction and screaming voices that no longer aid his confidence. Phil dreams of a peaceful time long ago, when all of his children were safe, a feeling of future grief haunting even his happiest memories. Ranboo dreams confusing, troublesome things that leave him lying awake, in the middle of the night, trembling, terrified out of his mind.

Tommy and Tubbo both dream of a special place they had once called home. A place that has slowly become corrupted and tainted and _wrong_. A place they still love just the same.

The anthem of this country plays, in a beautiful symphony, in the backgrounds of their dreams of seeing the country they had been so proud of burnt to ashes and dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! The most perfect boy has arrived! Any kudos/comments/bookmarks would be appreciated!
> 
> (Also, for anyone interested, who hasn’t seen: my Awesamdad one-shot is out!! And i honestly might add more chapters to it soon lol)
> 
> Also, Ranboo is canonically 8’ 8” and Tubbo’s 5’ 5”. Let that sink in for a second. Ya’ll don’t understand how fucking funny that is to me lmaoooo
> 
> I can’t be a Ranboo, Sam, and Puffy apologist if none of them have done anything wrong :):):) Take that as a threat.


	23. I’ll Be The Man In Charge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo muses about power and his own relationship with Quackity.
> 
> *title from Can I Exist by MISSIO

Tubbo awakes, with a strange sense of urgency. It takes him a moment to recall himself, but, when he does, his heart sinks into his stomach. Of course. Quackity. What is it about power that makes people go mad for it? Tubbo has never felt any wish to rule over more than his share. Hell, he never even wanted to be president of _L’Manburg_.

Tubbo’s watched ruler after ruler become drunk (literally and metaphorically) with power and then crumble under the weight of it all. Wilbur went mad, Schlatt was drunk more often than not, Eret is only king in name, Dream is starting to overestimate his own power.

Tubbo, himself, when he had left L’Manburg, could feel himself hanging on by a thread, to his own sanity. Tubbo, who had begun, with all the best intentions in the world. Tubbo, who has never been strong enough to stand up for himself. Tubbo, who left the only remnants of Wilbur Soot to a man, who had been cracking for a long time.

Quackity is another story. Tubbo supposes that he should have seen it coming. Quackity has been vying for leadership over L’Manburg, since Tubbo has known him. He had put his ambitions on the back burner for a long time, while Schlatt had been in power. Tubbo and Big Q had grown close, under the thumb of an evil dictator.

They had looked to each other for solace, when everybody else was gone. Wilbur and Tommy had been exiled and Quackity’s own husband had treated him terribly. The two had bonded over late nights and tearful explanations. Quackity had bandaged Tubbo’s wounds, like Wilbur used to do, when they were young, and Tubbo, in turn, would let Quackity cry into his shoulder late into the night.

Tubbo had begun to see the man, as something of a brother. And then the festival happened. The festival had happened and Quackity had just stood by and _watched_ , while Tubbo was executed, surrounded by his own decorations. Sure, he had protested Schlatt’s actions, but he could have- no, he _should_ have done more. Still, even after everything, he had been the obvious choice to become Vice President, after Tommy was gone.

Maybe, Tubbo thinks, he should have seen the power hungry glint in his eyes. Maybe, he shouldn’t have excused the way he had not-so-gently manipulated Tubbo into questioning every action. Maybe Tubbo could have prevented this from happening, but, then again, maybe not. Maybe there was nothing at all that could have stopped this from happening.   
  
—————

Tubbo drags himself out of bed, feeling weighed down, with worry and nervous anticipation. Tommy seems to have already awoken, as the bed across the room is empty. Sure enough, when Tubbo walks down the stairs, Tommy is sitting at the table next to Ranboo. Both look tired and grim, but determined.

”Hello,” Tubbo mutters, yawning. He had barely slept at all the night before and, the little sleep he had been able to get, had been plagued by nightmares.

“Hey,” Tommy greets quietly, looking just as exhausted, as Tubbo feels. 

”Hi, Tubbo,” Ranboo shifts nervously, eyes darting everywhere, but Tubbo’s face.

Techno and Phil try to get them all to eat something, but not one of the teens can work up anything like an appetite. Tommy stabs at his food, with his fork, like it had personally insulted him. Ranboo takes minuscule bites of food, looking like he’d rather be doing anything else. Tuboo just leans his face on one hand and closes his eyes, in a desperate attempt to catch up on some, much needed, sleep.

He opens them sharply, when there’s a crash and a loud curse from Tommy. Tommy had apparently stabbed too hard and had upset his plate, spilling almost all of it onto the floor. The, almost disappointed, sigh from Technoblade has Tommy tensing and drawing away from the older man, on instinct.

When Techno draws closer, Tommy jumps to his feet, under the guise of going to get paper towels to help clean up. Clearing his throat loudly and awkwardly, he shoves them brusquely at the piglin hybrid, who takes them slowly, keeping his hands in view at all times.

Ranboo watches this interaction closely; brow furrowed in thought. A moment later, he retrieves his memory book from a back pocket and begins to scribble furiously. Tubbo narrows his eyes at the enderman hybrid. “What are you doing, Ranboo?” He asks sharply.

Ranboo jumps, looking up at him, with wide, startled eyes. “I- I was just...writing observations.”

”About what?” Tubbo asks, feeling twitchy.

”Tommy acts differently now,” Ranboo says simply, “I need to remember that.”

Tubbo glances out of the window. The snow from the night before had cleared up, leaving a pale sun to gently illuminate the glistening expanse of white. Tubbo considers his options for a moment, before deciding that he really should “Can you and I have a talk, real quick?” Tubbo asks Ranboo.

Ranboo nods, fiddling nervously, with his book. “You’ll be okay outside, if you wear shoes, right, Memory Boy?” Tubbo checks.

”Yeah,” Ranboo confirms, mouth turned down, with anxiety.

”I’ll be outside for a minute,” Tubbo informs the room loudly. Quieter, he adds, “You good, Big T?”

Tommy nods, eyes flicking between Tubbo and Ranboo curiously, “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Go have your clandestine chat.”

Tubbo frowns, “Toms, I’m not trying to exclude you, or anything-“

”I know, Tubbo,” Tommy says, though his attempt at a confident tone falls flat somewhat. Tubbo squeezes his hand quickly, in an effort to make Tommy believe his sincerity. Tommy gives him a small smile and shoos him out of the house.

Once outside, Tubbo and Ranboo just walk together for a while. “So,” Tubbo finally says, “Quackity.”

”Quackity,” Ranboo repeats.

”What has he been up to?” 

Ranboo bites his lip, “He’s been... odd lately. He’s acted like he’s in charge of everything now that you and Dream haven’t been around in a while.”

Tubbo frowns, “And why did he send you after me?”

”He said something about you being a traitor to the nation of L’Manburg, by being gone so long,”” Ranboo explains, flipping his book open again and scanning one of the pages. “He told me that he needs to show people that traitors get punished.”

Tubbo flinches hard. The words are eerily similar to those spoken by a ram-horned, former president of L’Manburg. "He- he had to have said it like that on purpose," Tubbo says darkly.

"Are those words... important?" Ranboo questions tentatively.

"Ranboo, you've heard of President JSchlatt, right?" Tubbo asks, trying to sound detached and markedly failing.

"Yes, of course. Did he... say something similar?" Ranboo guesses.

Tubbo smiles grimly, "He said almost exactly the same thing. Right before he had me publicly executed."

Ranboo gapes, "And... was Quackity..."

"Yes," Tubbo nods, "He heard every word." Grimly, he paces through the snow in silence, for a few moments. Ranboo alternates between scribbling fervently in his notebook and shooting Tubbo worried glances.

"Well," Tubbo finally decides, "I went down without a fight last time. I won't let that happen again."

"I'm with you, Tubbo," Ranboo says, "I know you might not trust me, but I'm with you."

"I appreciate it, big man," Tubbo smiles. "We have the rest of today to get all our gear in order," he says, clapping his hands together, in a way that's almost reminiscent of Wilbur. "Let's get going, Memory Boy!"

With a renewed sense of purpose and determination, the two make the return trek through the snow. They open the door of the cabin (that has felt more like home to Tubbo than L'Manburg has, in a long while) and get to work prepping for the fight ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are always hella appreciated! This isn’t the greatest chapter and it’s kinda short, but I’m working on the first chapter of a MASSIVE fic and I’m having brainrot over that right now lmao
> 
> EDIT: THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THAT MASSIVE FIC IS OUT! GO READ IT! I WORKED REALLY HARD ON IT AND I’M PROUD OF IT!! GO READ IF YOU’RE INTERESTED!


	24. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The confrontation with Quackity. What will they do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! BEFORE YOU EVEN READ THIS: THE FIRST CHAPTER OF MY NEW MASSIVE FIC IS OUT. GO READ PLEASE! I’M VERY PROUD OF IT!
> 
> ANYWAY, ENJOY THIS FIC!

They set out for L’Manburg before dawn the next morning. It hadn’t exactly been _planned_ for them to set off that early, but not one of the teens had been able to sleep for longer than an hour and Tommy had taken to pacing the bedroom in a very distracting way. In the end, Techno and Phil are awoken by Ranboo and Tubbo stress baking at three in the morning and decide then and there that they might as well start the day early.

Their appetite seems to have come back tenfold and the teens all eat breakfast like they’ve been starving for months. Techno makes them all triple check their weapons; a crossbow slung across his own back and the Axe of Peace strapped to his belt. Phil stops Tubbo, with a hand on his shoulder, after the rest leave the house and says quietly, “And you’re sure you want to do this?”

”Yeah,” Tubbo says half-heartedly.

”Because, if you want us to, Techno and I can go in there and take care of things on our own. You boys shouldn’t have to be involved,” Phil says coaxingly.

Tubbo stares around at the cabin that has felt so much like home lately. He, Tommy, and Ranboo could all remain safely here and never have to worry about wars, or betrayals, or executions ever again. It’s a tempting thought, but it feels _wrong_. Tubbo is still the president of L’Manburg, however much he might wish not to be. L’Manburg is still his responsibility and he can’t abandon it, however much he might want to. And, despite what he likes to think, he _doesn’t_ want to.

He thinks back to the dawn of November sixteenth. He and Quackity had stared each other dead in the eyes, as they agreed to stick it out and not abandon their country. Now, Quackity is the one who Tubbo has to save his country from, but he still won’t abandon L’Manburg. He was never able to do it before and he can’t do it now.

”I can’t speak for the others, Phil,” Tubbo says, drawing himself up, “But I will not cower in my home, just because I have powerful friends, who can take care of business _for_ me. I will not be JSchlatt and I will not be Dream. I fought and died for this country, Phil. I think I can do it one more time.” Tubbo is the president of a nation and, when the time comes, he will act like one.

Phil looks so, horribly _sad_ , but he looks proud too and he squeezes Tubbo’s shoulder in understanding. “Alright,” he says softly, “I won’t try to stop you. I probably wouldn’t be able to if I tried.”

”Thank you,” Tubbo says and allows Phil to pull him into a quick hug. 

”I’m proud of you, son,” Philza tells him, before they join the others and Tubbo gives him a shaky smile.

They finally step out into the snow; Phil shutting and locking the door behind them. “Tommy,” Tubbo says urgently, grabbing his hand with both of his own, “You don’t have to do this, you know that, right?”

Tommy stares at him like he’s grown a second head and says eloquently, “Are you fucking stupid? Of course I’m coming with you, dumbass. It’s my country too. Even if... even after everything, L’Manburg is yours and Wilbur’s and _mine_.”

Tubbo laughs lightly, feeling horribly selfish for the rush of relief that crashes over him at Tommy’s reassurance. “It is, Tommy. Of course it is,” he says, “I probably should have said this before, but you’re officially un-exiled from the nation of L’Manburg, as decreed by President Tubbo Underscore,” he grins at his best friend.

A shadow, that Tubbo had never noticed before, flits out of Tommy’s eyes and maybe he really _should_ have said it before. He had assumed that words wouldn’t be necessary, but maybe he could have saved Tommy hours of heartache if he had just said it weeks ago. “Thank you, Tubzo,” Tommy says quietly and Tubbo squeezes his hand once, before letting go.

He turns to look at the other three, who are all pretending not to watch, with varying degrees of success. Ranboo, in particular, looks horribly uncomfortable and Tubbo can’t tell if he feels bad, or wants to laugh. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat nervously, “Are we all ready?” Various noises of agreement answer this question and he nods tightly. “Then let’s go.”

Without another word, they set off for the nearest nether portal, a mutual feeling of determination in all of their hearts.

—————

All in all, it only takes them around an hour and a half to reach the community nether portal. Ranboo, who has been nearly silent all morning, gets more and more fidgety the longer they travel. His hands frequently stray to his hip, making sure that his weapons are securely strapped to his belt. Occasionally, he reads over a page or two in his memory book, with a frantic edge to his movements. 

He can’t- he can’t _remember_. He’s friends with Quackity and Fundy, as well as the others. He’s about to fight against his own friends for control of a country. Sure, Quackity has been a bit power hungry lately, but surely they can _talk_ it out, instead of solving everything with swords and crossbows.

”We’re all prepared?” Techno checks, as he readies himself to go through the portal. They all nod in agreement. All except for Ranboo. Ranboo, who is fiddling with his sleeves and staring at the ground. “Did you forget something?” Techno questions.

Ranboo shakes his head rapidly, “N-no, but I just... is this- am I a traitor for doing this?” His voice is shaking. Why is his voice shaking? 

“You’re a citizen of L’Manburg, Ranboo. Therefore, _I_ am your president,” Tubbo tells him and he cringes. “You’re not betraying L’Manburg, by fighting with me.”

”No, not like _that_ ,” Ranboo tries to explain, a desperate edge to his voice. “I mean, am I betraying Quackity? And anyone who chooses to fight with him? I’m- we’re _friends_. How can I just... fight him?” A distressed chirp that sounds distinctly ‘enderman’ forces itself out of him and he ducks his head, not wanting to see anybody’s reaction to the noise.

”Ranboo, nobody is asking you to fight,” Tubbo tells him softly, “You can sit it out if you want. I get it. Quackity’s _my_ friend too. This is hard for all of us.” 

”But... _you’re_ my friend too,” the enderman says quietly.

”Do whatever you feel is right,” Phil advises, “But make your choice quick. We’re going through this nether portal in the next five minutes.”

Ranboo flips open his memory book for one last time and reads:

**_Friends:_ **

**_Tommy... Tubbo... Technoblade... Philza... Fundy... Quackity (uncertain) (has been acting strange lately)_ **

Taking a deep breath, Ranboo snaps the book shut again. “I’m with you all. Just... can we _try_ to talk it out first?”

”I would prefer not to,” Techno shrugs, “But it’s probably not my call.”

Tubbo lays a hand on Ranboo’s arm reassuringly, “We’ll try, big man, but I _know_ Big Q. When he gets something into his head he won’t let anybody try to talk him out of it.”

Ranboo gives him a weak nod. It doesn’t feel _right_ , but he’s not going to break his promise to Tubbo. He follows the others through the portal, blinking in the morning sunlight, when they emerge on the other side. The sun must have risen sometime while they were in the nether.

Tommy is looking around, with wide, nervous eyes. “It’s... it’s been so long,” the teen says quietly. He looks almost lost and Ranboo recalls sharply a time that Tommy had marched around the SMP, as if he owned it. Back then, he was all confident grins and loud, booming laughs. Now, Ranboo’s noticed, his smiles are more tentative than anything and his laughs are quiet and nervous.

Even so, a smile starts to spread across his face, as he looks around, despite their dark purpose for being there. "I'm back, bitches," he mutters, mostly to himself.

"Alright, what's the game plan?" Techno asks.

"Ranboo and I go in alone," Tubbo says, "Hopefully we can talk some sense into Big Q. If that doesn't work, we'll yell for you and we'll all fight. Sound good?" They all agree to the plan and Tommy gives Tubbo a quick hug, whispering something into his ear. Tubbo nods, laughing quietly, as he steps back.

Ranboo can feel his heart hammering in his chest, as he walks alongside Tubbo towards L'Manburg. His hands shake, when he calls for Quackity, who arrives to greet them, with a too-large smile and a dull light in his eyes.

"Toobo!" Quackity greets, slinging an arm around Tubbo's shoulders. Tubbo tenses at the contact and frowns at Quackity.

"Are we really playing this game, Big Q?" Tubbo asks quietly, ducking out from under Quackity's arm.

"What game?" Quackity laughs nervously, eyes darting towards Ranboo. Ranboo ducks his head to avoid eye contact.

"I think I remember someone once pretending to be my friend only to have me executed," Tubbo says flatly, "I thought you weren't a fan of executions, Quackity."

"I-" Quackity's words die on his tongue.

"You warned _me_ to not turn into Schlatt. It's a pity you turned out just like him."

Ranboo doesn't know much about Schlatt, but he knows enough to know that that had ben a low blow. Quackity's sharp flinch and darkened countenance confirm this. "How the fuck did you know what I was going to do," Quackity questions.

Tubbo doesn't respond and Quackity starts to accuse _Fundy_ of something. "If that two-faced fox switched sides again..." he's muttering darkly.

"It was me," Ranboo hears himself say, "I told Tubbo."

"Oh," Quackity laughs bitterly, "So the one always preaching about loyalty is a fucking traitor?"

"Quackity," Ranboo pleads, "You've been going too far lately. Tubbo is the president, not you, and you have _no_ right to have him executed."

"Maybe I should have _you_ executed," Quackity snarls, hand flying to something at his belt.

"Can't you be content with being the president of El Rapids?" Ranboo asks hopefully.

"I was hoping to only have to do this to Tubbo," Quackity says, "But I suppose two traitors, for the price of one isn't a bad deal."

In one, fluid movement Quackity pulls an axe out from where it had been hidden under his shirt and cleaves it into the side of Ranboo's head. The agony that erupts inside of his skull is, thankfully, short lived. 

The last thing Ranboo hears is Tubbo screaming, before he's falling through a void, with too many faces staring, smiling, laughing at him. Then everything goes silent and the world is locked in an eternal darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter :):) Kudos/comments/bookmarks are always very appreciated! <3


	25. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys!! If you haven’t already please go read the second chapter of my other fic ‘They’re Just Children’ (if you’re interested) I’m really proud of it!!
> 
> Also, no thoughts. head empty. just Late-August’s newest animatic.  
> Anyway, enjoy this fic!

Two screams make Tommy jerk upright, hand instantly flying to the sword strapped to his belt. Phil and Techno are on the move in an instant, weapons out and faces set. A yell of, “Tommy!” only serves to make the three run faster. They find Quackity and Tubbo quickly, though Tommy realizes that Ranboo is nowhere to be found.

Quackity is bearing down upon Tubbo with a netherite axe, though the teen is holding his ground; shield raised protectively with one hand, the other clutching a sword. “Tommy! He killed Ranboo!” Tubbo shouts and the younger teen’s face darkens.

“Tommy?” Quackity gapes, his shock enough to give Tubbo time to right himself. “It’s a death wish to come here,” the man snarls, “Do you _want_ to die?”

”Not yet,” Tommy responds grimly, “Now put down that axe, Quackity.”

”You’re a traitor,” the duck hybrid glares, “You’re _all_ traitors! You’re with fucking Technoblade of all people!” He takes a wild swing at Tommy, who parries the blow, with his own sword.

”Technoblade has changed! I know he has,” Tommy yells.

”You shouldn’t even be _alive_ , Tommy and you certainly shouldn’t be _here_. L’Manburg is better off without someone like _you_ ,” Quackity snarls, ducking under a swipe of Tommy’s sword.

”Someone like- what? Do you mean somebody who makes _mistakes_?” Tommy asks, stunned, jumping back to avoid the axe. 

”All of this country’s problems began with you and Tubbo,” Quackity’s stare is heavy, “Niki and I had a long talk about this recently.”

”I’ve given up _everything_ for L’Manburg,” Tommy says through gritted teeth, “What have _you_ given up?”

”All of my friends,” the hybrid’s eyes are glassy, “and my husband. And it’s _your_ fault, Tommy. You and Wilbur took back L’Manburg after a democratic election had removed you from power. _You_ invited Technoblade here and allowed him to destroy this place.”  
  
“Schlatt was a _tyrant_ , Quackity. You _know_ that.” The tip of Quackity’s axe catches the teen in the side of the leg and Tommy hisses in pain.

”So was Wilbur, Tommy. And so were _you_.”

“Dream has been pulling the strings from the start! Didn’t we talk about this the day before- before everything? You _have_ to see that!” Tommy says desperately, lunging forward and feeling no satisfaction when the tip of his sword nicks the other man’s shoulder.

Quackity’s yelp of pain makes Tommy cringe. “Everybody is better off without you, Tommy. Don’t _you_ see that? Dream would leave us alone if it weren’t for you.” Tommy’s mouth falls open in shock. How? How could Quackity have known the thoughts that haunt him, even when he’s asleep.

A short scream of shock comes from behind Tommy and the teen whirls around to see Tubbo locked in combat with Niki. Her face is stoic, but her eyes are filled with grief and hopelessness. Beside them, Fundy has leapt on Phil, desperation etched into his face.

Quackity takes Tommy’s moment of distraction to kick him in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground. “Don’t any of you people understand? I’m not like Schlatt. I _don’t_ want power. I just want my country to be safe and nobody else even _cares_!” His laugh is full of bitterness, “Tubbo’s never here! You want this place burned to the ground! Fundy and Niki have given up! Ranboo is a fucking traitor! What am I supposed to _do_? Be the ruler of _nothing_?”

”You- you sound like Wilbur. He always accused everybody of being a traitor,” Tommy breathes, flipping around to face the older man.

”Well? Maybe he was right.” Quackity raises his axe above Tommy and the teen cringes into the dirt, preparing for a searing pain.

It never comes.

Right as Quackity begins to swing down, a sword catches him heavily in the arm. The man behind the sword is none other than Technoblade. “Step away from him,” the piglin hybrid says, voice flat.

Taking a stumbling step back, axe fallen to the ground, Quackity stares at Techno balefully. “Dream told us what Tommy did,” he says, breathing ragged.

”What the hell are you talking about?” Tommy spits, stumbling to his feet.

”Dream told us that you and Techno took one of his lives, even though he threatened to destroy L’Manburg if you did,” Quackity explains breathlessly, “He said that you didn’t care. He said that you actually _encouraged_ it. He said that you wanted this place destroyed, after we exiled you.”

The noises of the battle behind them feel as if they’ve been muted in Tommy’s head. Dream had turned his former friends and country against him. He expects to feel fear, maybe even panic, but he can feel nothing, except for fury. How _dare_ Dream try to make himself look like a victim?

”What the fuck?” The teen shouts, “And you _believed_ him? This country is all I have left of Wilbur and you think that I’d want it gone?” 

”Hold on,” Techno says slowly, “Ranboo said that Dream told you that Tommy was dead. Which one of you is lying?”

The look of complete and utter confusion on Quackity’s face is enough to guess who the liar might be. “I guess that traitor lied to both of us. I told you that he’s just a hindrance to us all.” 

“Why would he lie?” Tommy asks, wondering why betrayal still stings after all this time.

”Maybe to make you think that L’Manburg has nothing against you,” Quackity suggests, still clutching his arm, “Because we most certainly do.”

”I haven’t done anything wrong!” Tommy protests, “I would sooner give up my last life, than this country.”

“Than why did you kill Dream, even after his threats? And don’t try to tell me that he didn’t lose a life to you two. He showed us the scars to prove it! He told us that if we killed you, Tommy, and Tubbo within the next two weeks, he would allow L’Manburg to stay standing.”

“Y’know what? I _did_ kill him,” Techno shrugs, “But he gave us no such ultimatum and the bastard deserved it. Tommy didn’t lay a finger on Dream.” 

Tommy winces, “I’d say it was quite the opposite.”

”Why would he lie to us?” Quackity questions suspiciously.

Tommy scoffs, “The better question is: why would he tell you the _truth_? Dream is nothing, but manipulative.”

”How do I believe _you_ , after everything you’ve done?” The man looks like he truly does want to believe Tommy, though his eyes are still narrowed in anger.

”Dream did... terrible things to me in exile, Big Q,” Tommy says quietly, “I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m lying.” He waits until the man’s pain clouded eyes meet his own, before continuing, “He is a manipulative, bastard. We thought we knew that before, but we had no idea how bad he is. Trust me, Quackity. _Please_.” 

The duck hybrid stares at him for a moment longer, before relaxing slightly. Tommy breathes a sigh of relief. He had been believed. “Niki! Fundy! Back off! We were lied to,” Quackity calls. 

Niki lowers her sword, though she’s still glaring daggers at Tubbo. Tubbo lowers his own weapon and the two step away from each other. Fundy hadn’t been faring very well against Phil; the older man has him pinned to the ground, wings spread wide behind him. At Quackity’s call, Phil releases the fox-boy, who scurries away, limping.

”Dream lied to us,” the vice president repeats, “Tommy didn’t kill him and he didn’t threaten to destroy L’Manburg.”

”Why would Dream lie?” Niki questions, “He has no reason to!”

”You probably don’t want my input, but I’m willing to bet that he was just lookin’ for a reason to destroy L’Manburg,” Techno says, voice calm, “He knew that the chances of you findin’ Tommy and Tubbo were slim. He thinks that he’s the only one who knows where I live.” His gaze levels on Fundy, who looks away uncomfortably.

”I didn’t know that Tubbo was there,” the fox shrugs.

”You knew where Tommy was?” Niki questions furiously, “And you didn’t tell us?”

”I- I couldn’t sell him out,” Fundy says, voice pleading, “He was in real bad shape the last time I saw him. I just couldn’t do that to him.”

”Thank you, Fundy,” Tommy says quietly and his nephew gives him a nod.

“If- If Dream was just looking for an excuse to blow up the country than... he’s just going to blow it up anyway, isn’t he?” Quackity says hopelessly.

”It took you long enough to figure that out,” a darkly amused voice, from behind them, turns Tommy’s blood to ice. He turns slowly to see Dream, clutching a wither skull in one hand and the shoulder of Ranboo, in the other.

Ranboo looks a mess. There are visible tear stains on his cheeks, causing his skin to sizzle lightly, and he rasps out, “I’m- I’m _so_ sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean for this to happen! I swear I didn’t!”

”I sent Ranboo out to get you all here,” Dream chuckles, “I didn’t think he’d do _this_ well.” He appears to tighten his grip on the enderman hybrid’s shoulder and the teen cringes away. “Gathering all my favorite playthings in one spot is pretty impressive, I must admit. I expected Technoblade, or Philza to be smart enough not to come.”

Dream’s head turns until he’s staring straight at Tommy, who flinches back, his heart pounding in his ears. “I really just wanted _you_ here, Tom. I wanted you to see your country fall down around you, before I killed you.”

Tommy takes a step back, fear and anger making his blood run cold. “What was that saying again?” Dream asks, constructing the body of a Wither, before they can do anything, but stare in shock, “Ah, that’s right.” He places the heads on the body. “It was never meant to be.” The Wither comes to life, with an ear-splitting screech and the sky turns red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was never meant to be. O7
> 
> Any kudos/comments/bookmarks would be super appreciated! 
> 
> Also, I just- WOW the amount of support I got on that last chapter was incredible. I absolutely love bullshitting my way through this fic. Was this my initial plan? Fuck no. Do I love it? Fuck yeah I do.


	26. Desolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long expected duel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW for kinda graphic violence?? I’m not sure how graphic it is, so I’m just putting this here lmao
> 
> *cracks knuckles* Warrior Cats, don’t fail me now

Tubbo feels like he’s drowning, as he watches the Wither take flight. It’s happening _again_. After everything he had done to rebuild L’Manburg. After everything he had done to repair relations with other factions of the SMP. After everything he had put Tommy through, in order to preserve peace with Dream.

It had all been for nothing at all. 

Even as the Wither begins to rain hellfire down from the skies, Dream forms another one and sends it off, with its brother, to destroy the one thing that still serves as a reminder of happier days. Ranboo is released, with a dismissive shove, and the teen staggers away from the masked man.

“Tubbo,” the enderman says softly and Tubbo looks away. The dull ache of betrayal never gets less painful. “Tubbo, I never wanted L’Manburg destroyed. I want to help fight.”

”Do what you want,” the president says, in a clipped tone, “Hell if I care.”

”I’m so-“ Ranboo starts, sounding desperate.

”Whatever you have to say; say it later,” Tubbo says shortly, unsheathing his sword again. He chances a glance at Ranboo and, for a moment, almost feels bad for how wrecked the other teen looks. Then, he looks at the destruction the Withers have already caused and his heart hardens again.

”We fight together, right, big man?” Tommy asks, planting his feet firmly next to Tubbo.

”Of course,” Tubbo nods his head, “Oh, and... Tommy? In case I don’t-“

”Don’t say that,” Tommy snaps, “You’re going to be fine. C’mon, let’s get these bitches.” Above them, Philza has taken flight, in an effort to fight the Withers on their own level. He looks more like the Angel of Death than ever, with a sword held out before him and silver wings spread wide behind.

Quackity tries to grab his crossbow, but cries out in pain, as the movement pulls at his injury. “Sit this one out, Quackity,” Niki tells him firmly, “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

”I don’t care about me,” Quackity’s laugh is embittered.

”Well then, you’re going to get one of _us_ killed,” Niki’s tone is harsh, but it does the trick and Quackity lowers his head in defeat. Once she makes sure that the duck hybrid isn’t going to do anything stupid, she stands shoulder to shoulder with Fundy. They both draw their crossbows and take aim at the Withers, occasionally hitting the intended mark.

Techno is somewhere on the rooftops, shooting firework-filled arrows at the Withers. Tubbo feels sick to his stomach, when he sees that particular crossbow, so he looks away. “Think the five of them have got that covered?” Tommy asks, gesturing to all, but Quackity.

”Probably,” Tubbo nods, slightly uncertain.

”Then I think it’s time to go after that green bastard ourselves,” thinly veiled fury has replaced the panic and fear that is usually audible in Tommy’s voice, when he speaks of Dream.

Tubbo glances at him, “You and me, versus Dream, huh?”

”It’s the way it’s been from the beginning. It might as well end the same way,” Tommy agrees grimly, scanning around for wherever the man had gone off to. Tubbo spots him up on the podium, with dynamite in one hand and a lighter in the other. The older teen points and he can feel Tommy tense beside him, but the two are running before they can second guess themselves.

“Dream,” Tommy shouts, as they climb the steps to the podium, and Dream turns to face the two teenagers.

”Come crawling back to me, have you?” The man asks, voice calm, almost _amused_.

”You fucking wish,” Tommy snaps.

”C’mon now,” Dream sounds so _disappointed_ and Tubbo draws closer to Tommy, in an attempt to give him strength. The man in front of them flicks the lighter, so that a flame lights up the tip. “Give me your armor, Tommy,” he says, voice low and commanding.

Tommy flinches so hard he has to take a step back to keep himself upright, but something in his face hardens. Both Tubbo and Dream see the moment, when Tommy steels himself against such intimidation. Tubbo grins savagely, turning back around to face Dream. “Any more brilliant tricks up your sleeve, or can we get to the point?” Tubbo questions, adjusting his stance and tightening his grip on his sword.

”Fine,” Dream shrugs, “I’ll enjoy taking you both down myself.” Lighting the dynamite, he throws it towards the rest of the battle. The noise of the subsequent explosion is drowned out by countless others.

”God, you’re just so fucking obsessed with me, aren’t you?” Tommy questions, his usual, cocky smirk planted firmly on his face, “I know I’m perfect, but it’s a little pathetic, I have to say.”

Dream doesn’t respond. In one breath he draws his axe and leaps at them. Tubbo blocks with his shield, the axe bouncing off of the metal, with an ear-splitting ring. The screeching noises of the Withers and the shouts and cries of everybody else is a wild symphony in the background of their long expected duel.

—————

To say that Tommy isn’t scared would be a downright lie. He’s _terrified_. But he won’t be able to rest, until Dream has been taken down. So, for now, he’ll let adrenaline fuel his actions and he’ll fight until his last breath, if he has to. 

He and Tubbo swing and block, dodging and surging forward in turns, in a chaotic, dangerous dance that they’ve had memorized since they were young. Dream steps and turns, in his own form; one that looks awkward and laborious, without the presence of Sapnap and George on either side of him.

It’s clear that he keeps forgetting that he has to watch his own back now; stumbling over his feet, whenever he attempts to avoid an attack that isn’t head on. Tommy and Tubbo glance at each other and it’s clear that they both have the same idea.

Tubbo slowly begins to circle around behind Dream, going slowly enough that it isn’t clear what he’s doing, until he’s already there. Dream whirls back and forth, trying to fight off both of them at once, getting more and more off-balanced. Finally, even as the last screech of the, now defeated, Withers fades into nothingness, Tubbo manages to plunge a sword into the masked man’s thigh. 

Dream’s yell of pain doesn’t give Tommy nearly as much enjoyment, as he thought it might. Before the man has a chance to recover himself, however, Tommy slashes his own sword across the man’s dominant arm. He drops his axe, crying out, as blood flows freely from both of his wounds.

His knees buckle and he winds up sprawled on the ground, looking nothing like a god, or an immortal being, or anything of the sort. Tubbo tugs his mask off, just as he had that night on the beach only a few weeks before. All Dream looks like, is a defiant, pain-riddled, finally beaten young man. Tommy stands over him, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. He studies the man’s face, searching, almost desperately, for any sign of regret, or guilt. 

”Do you have any idea what you did to me?” Tommy asks, voice loud, with anger and grief. Anger, for the unrepentant man before him. Grief, for the fearless, confident boy, who had once existed and would never exist again.

”I broke you,” Dream’s voice is rough, with pain, but his crazed chuckle makes Tommy shudder, “I broke TommyInnit.”

Tommy closes his eyes, briefly overcome by a wave of nausea, before he opens them again, hardening his heart and glaring down at the man before him. “No,” he says, quietly at first and then again, louder, “No. You didn’t. You didn’t break me and you never will. You hurt me, Dream. You hurt me _so_ badly, but I am not yours to hurt anymore. I don’t belong to you and I never have.”

Tommy lets his sword hover over Dream’s chest. “I am not a puppet and you are _certainly_ not the puppet master.”

”How eloquent,” Dream does his best to sneer, through the pain that is, certainly, blinding. “But you don’t _really_ have the willpower to kill me, do you TommyInnit? You can’t kill your best friend, can you?”

Tommy looks up, making eye contact with Tubbo, and the other teen nods once. “You are _not_ my best friend,” Tommy says, with a firm conviction, looking back down, “And I can do anything I fucking want.” Dream’s eyes widen, in terror, for a brief moment, as Tommy brings his sword down, sinking it deep into the man’s chest. He doesn’t have long to be afraid, however, as the light fades out of his eyes within the minute and his whole body goes limp.

Tommy tugs his sword out of the body and waits. Waits for the body to disappear in a cloud of smoke, waits for Dream to vanish for a month, only to turn up again, with better gear and a darker mind. But it never happens. The body stays exactly where it is. It takes a moment, for Tommy to realize that Dream is well and truly dead.

He lies in a pool of his own blood. He dies with no dignity, no honor, and no repentance. Tommy can’t tell if he wants to laugh, or cry. Instead, he just looks up at Tubbo, who gives him a gentle smile; the kind of smile that they reserve only for each other.

Turning to look at the destruction of L’Manburg, Tommy finds that everyone else is staring up at them from below. They all seemed to be filled with the same somber relief that Tommy is feeling. The city is certainly damaged, but it could be worse and the foundations still hold strong, despite all they had been put through.

“Dream is dead,” he calls, voice shaking, “For good, this time.” There is no joy, in this victory. Only a bone deep _relief_.

“We certainly have rebuilding to do,” Tubbo adds from his place beside him, “But we can make it beautiful, in time, without the constant threat of Dream hanging over our heads. No matter how much this bitch of a world throws at us, we will always rebuild. As long as we stand tall, so does L’Manburg.”

Niki looks up at the two and, without a word, salutes them both, with a sad smile, on her face. Beside her, Fundy does the same and, with a glance at the two of them, so does Quackity. Ranboo joins in, with a readiness that makes Tommy think that, maybe, he really _hadn’t_ meant to betray them.

Phil stares up at them both, for a moment, before joining in, saluting them both, with a proud grin, on his face. Techno glances around awkwardly, groaning audibly, when Phil elbows him, but saluting all the same. His face is scrunched up in such distaste that Tommy laughs out loud.

The tension in the air seems to fade at that, even as Tubbo and Tommy, standing on either side of Dream’s unmoving body, return the salute, clutching bloody swords, in their other hands. 

They have done it. Dream is dead. L’Manburg can rebuild in peace. The server doesn’t have to fear the, very clearly, mortal man’s tyranny anymore. The people of the SMP are free. _Tommy_ is free. And, for the first time in years, he _feels_ free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Any kudos/comments/bookmarks are always very appreciated!  
> I’m really happy with this one and I hope you all liked it too! We’re almost done, everyone! Only a chapter or two left! I’ll save all of the sappy shit for the last chapter, but really, truly thank you all SO much for the absolutely insane amount of support you’ve all given me for this story. I love you all lots. Each and every one of you is very pogchamp! <3  
> —————
> 
> Also, Dream’s song. What the fuck. How dare he drop absolute fire on us like that without a warning? 
> 
> Also, also. How would- how would ya’ll feel about a nice c!Karlnapity angst one-shot soon? Just kidding, it doesn’t matter bc I’m writing it anyway. /lh


	27. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SMP (and its citizens) begin to heal.

The first thing Tommy and Tubbo do is question Ranboo. Well, not the _first_ thing. The first thing they do is sleep for about twelve hours straight. After _that_ they question Ranboo. “Why did you do it?” Tubbo asks simply, “You seemed real torn up about the Withers, so why give Dream the opportunity to do it, in the first place?”

Ranboo shakes his head wordlessly, for a moment, before whispering, “I didn’t mean to. _Really_ , I didn’t!” He adds, when Tubbo and Tommy both eye him incredulously. “I just- I kept losing periods of time lately, y’know?” He laughs awkwardly, like that’s supposed to be something relatable.  
  
“And I didn’t realize what I was doing in that time, but, uh, apparently Dream was telling me... well, not _me_ me... the _sleepwalking_ me terrible- terrible things about you guys and about L’Manburg.” He stares down at his feet, “And I think he taught me how to lie to you.”

”But... that first night? You gave us so much false information,” Tommy exclaims, “That thing about _Quackity_ being the one to send you? And about you all thinking I was dead! What the hell was _that_ about?”

”I don’t remember that night,” Ranboo whispers, wrapping his arms around himself, “Not at _all_ , even when I really _try_ to.”

Tubbo’s eyes widen and he snaps his fingers, in realization, “Is that why you were so shaky the next morning? I thought you were just shy.”

Ranboo nods nervously, “Uh... yeah. I woke up in the house of a known war criminal and _you two_ were there. I was obviously supposed to know what was going on, so I just... pretended. Lied.”

”And... the walk you took with me? Do you remember that?” Tubbo questions.

”We took a walk?” Ranboo asks, utter confusion lacing his voice.

Tommy sucks in a breath, “Yikes, big man.”

Ranboo looks between the two of them, looking more anxious than ever, “I’m assuming that that’s something I should remember?” 

”Eh,” Tubbo flings an arm around Ranboo’s... well, he was _aiming_ for the enderman’s shoulder, but he ends up somewhere around the waist, instead, “It’s not too big of a deal. I reckon most of what you said then, was a load of shit anyway.”

”Yeah, Big R,” Tommy grins, throwing himself at Ranboo’s other side, “Let’s give you some proper memories. Now that you don’t have ‘ol shit-for-brains hanging around you all the time.” He pauses, “Hey, now that I think about it: _I_ don’t have to worry about him showing up all the time anymore, do I?”

“Nope,” Tubbo grins, “ _Ding dong! The wicked bitch is dead_!” He adds at the top of his lungs.

Tommy and Tubbo both laugh so hard that they’re gasping for air and Ranboo is left (half-awkwardly, half-fondly) in the middle of them both. He can definitely get used to this.

—————

They tell most of the SMP what had happened to Dream. Some, like Purpled and Hannah, truly couldn’t care less. Purpled even has the audacity to order them off his property. Others, such as Sam and Punz, are grieved, but understanding. According to Sam, most of Dream’s old friends had seen this coming for a long time.

The explanation to Sapnap and George is, undoubtedly, the hardest. Tommy tells some of the, less personal, details of what Dream had done to him, before breaking the news of what _he_ had done to Dream, in the end.

George takes both pieces of news, with an, almost graceful, stoicism. He bows his head, staring at the hands that lie idly in his lap and doesn’t speak a word.

Sapnap, predictably, looks wrathful. He looks furious at Tommy, furious at _Dream_ , and furious at the world in general. The fire that burns in his eyes is scary, almost, and even his fiancés comforting him, as best they can, doesn’t calm him down much. 

Finally, when Sapnap turns to snap at Tommy, who flinches involuntarily, before the arsonist even speaks, George lays a hand on his friend’s arm and shakes his head softly. “Sapnap,” he says, the break in his voice betraying his true emotions, despite the calm words, “We knew this was going to happen eventually, didn’t we?”

The former king points to the jagged, broken crown on the mantelpiece. Something in the shattered gold pieces of the, once powerful, symbol seems to speak volumes. Sapnap stares at it for a moment, eyes shining, with fury, and then, the tension drains from his body and he _falls apart_.

Tommy leaves then. He doesn’t feel like he should watch this anymore. Not now that Sapnap and George are leaning on each other like this. Not now that George’s composure has finally broken. Not now that their devastated sobs are truly heartbreaking. No. This is a private matter. Tommy’s business here is done. He can leave.

Besides, as much as Karl and Quackity have never held any great love for Dream, they love their fiancé more than anything in the world, aside from each other. They’ll take care of Sapnap and, by extension, George better than anybody else can.

—————

They have a funeral for Dream. It’s a somber affair and Tommy _really_ doesn’t know why he goes. Maybe he needs closure, maybe he needs to confirm that he’s dead, maybe it’s something else entirely. Regardless, he goes. So do Tubbo and Ranboo, probably for many of the same reason.

Only six people are truly there to mourn. Sam, Antfrost, and Punz linger on the sidelines, looking halfway between calm acceptance and bitter grief. They don’t quite look sad, but they are there to mourn their old friend, regardless. Badboyhalo, Sapnap, and George all have looks of utter grief on their faces.

The one thing that these six all have in common, however, is the simple fact that they are not mourning the Dream that had existed, right before his death. They are mourning Dream as he _had_ been.

Skeppy is there, with Bad, as moral support, despite his own indifference of Dream. Karl and Quackity are there for Sapnap, even though Quackity, at the very least, had despised Dream. Nobody is there for George. The only person who might have been there for him, once, is in the coffin that the three are now approaching.

They stare down into it and, even from Tommy’s distance, the tears clinging to their lashes and dripping down their cheeks are visible. The three glance at each other, before they each remove identical silver-banded rings from their fingers.

The only difference, is the gemstone set in each ring. A ruby for Badboyhalo, a garnet for Sapnap, and an aquamarine for George. They place the rings inside the coffin, alongside Dream, staring for a moment longer, before stepping back again. 

A memory sparks in Tommy’s mind and he recalls a certain ring, with a dark emerald set in the top, that Dream, no matter how often he sneered at attachment, would never remove from his finger. It must be the last in the set; probably all forged in happiness long ago. Their owners had been separated, but now, all four rings were together again. And would be forever.

Tommy doesn’t look at Dream, even though that had been his intention. He finds that he can’t examine that face; once so terrifying and now nothing more than the, almost translucent, visage of a too-young, dead man, who had gone mad with power. Tommy has already seen two of those. You’ve see one, you’ve see them all, he supposes.

So, he watches from a distance, as the coffin is lowered into the earth and, slowly, but surely, covered with dirt, until there’s nothing, but a tombstone and freshly turned soil to mark the place, where Dream now lies forever. The funeral guests slowly leave, one by one. Punz leaves first, then Sam, then Antfrost. A sobbing Bad is led gently away, by Skeppy. Sapnap, looking numb and empty, is guided home by both of his fiancés.

Tubbo and Ranboo leave soon after, but not without making Tommy promise that he would be back to L’Mamburg soon. He waves them off good-naturedly and they make their way back to L’Manburg, talking and laughing easily together.

The only people remaining, now, are Tommy and George. “I’m sorry for what he did to you,” George tells him calmly, from where he’s sitting on the bench they had placed, for future visitors.

Tommy sits down next to him and they both stare intently at the tombstone in front of them. “It’s- well, it’s not okay. Not at _all_ ,” he admits, shaking his head adamantly, “But, for what it’s worth, I never wanted him dead. Not _really_.”

George hums thoughtfully, before pointing out, “You had every right to.”

”I know,” Tommy laughs dryly, “It’s weird, isn’t it? The way you can hate someone _so_ , _so_ much and still forget, sometimes, that they were never _truly_ your friend; no matter how much they pretended to be, or how badly they did the pretending.”

George makes another noise of agreement, “It... takes a while to wrap your head around it and sometimes you slip up, but, eventually, you learn how to live without them. Sapnap hasn’t learned to yet, I don’t think, but he will, in time.”

”And... have _you_?” Tommy asks, turning his head slightly to glance at the man beside him. 

George turns to look at him, for the first time, lifting his goggles up to rest on top of his head. His lashes are still wet, with tears, and his eyes are glossy, though his smile is almost serene. “What do _you_ think?”

Tommy doesn’t answer. Truthfully, he doesn’t think that George _has_ learned to live without Dream, yet, but he’s not sure what he’s supposed to say about it. They sit together, in silence, for a few, long minutes. Tommy stands up after a time, saying, “Well, they’ll be wanting me back at L’Manburg, I suppose. Would you... like to come with me? As far as the Prime Path, at least, I mean.”

”You go on,” George tells him, “I’ll be back, soon enough.”

”Alright,” Tommy hesitates, fiddling with his sleeves, for a moment, before saying, “I’m always willing to talk, if you ever want to, Gogy.”

”I’ll keep that in mind,” George’s smile is genuine this time, “Be safe, Tommy.”

”Yeah, uh, you too,” Tommy waves awkwardly and turns to head back to L’Manburg. He pauses to look back, for a moment, and sees George still sitting on the bench, eyes closed. He _would_ look perfectly at peace with the world, if it weren’t for the stray tear sliding down his cheek. It’s picturesque, almost, the way the setting sun illuminates the whole scene.

Tommy turns again, with the image gently painted into his mind, taking up, what is almost certainly, permanent residence there. It’s sad, it truly is, but there’s an encouraging feeling of _hope_ there too. That’s something that Tommy keeps seeing more and more of, lately. Hope, he thinks idly, is rather nice after all.

—————

Tommy returns to L'Manburg and takes up a hammer, without complaint, to help the others, with the rebuilding efforts. He, along with Tubbo, Ranboo, Niki, Fundy, Quackity, and Phil, is to be found working in L'Manburg, most days. 

Techno isn't necessarily helping them, but Tommy does find a chest full of tools and materials outside his house, the morning after the piglin hybrid returns home. He doesn't tell Techno that he knows it had been him, but he gives the man an extra hug the next time they meet.

Healing is slow, but Tommy's getting better. They're _all_ getting better. He has his bad days, of course. Days where quick movements make his heart race and raised voices send him spiraling into a panic.

But, good, or, at the very least, neutral, days become increasingly frequent. He's learning, with the help of a, very willing, Captain Puffy, how to deal with his nightmares and how best to ground himself if he's ever triggered into a panic attack.

He appreciates the help more than he says and the captain becomes something of an older sister to him (not that he would ever admit it.)

\----------

It's been two months since Dream's funeral and Tommy is taking a break from working, with Tubbo and Ranboo, when it really hits him for the first time. Everything sounds so _peaceful_

Somewhere nearby, they can hear Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap laughing hysterically, as they chase each other playfully through the reconstructed city. Not far off, Ghostbur is rambling to an amused Philza about his pet sheep, Friend. Captain Puffy and Niki can be seen holding hands, as they walk through the streets, looking perfectly relaxed. L'Manburg, for the first time, truly _is_ a place of peace.

"The SMP is healing," Tubbo unconsciously voices Tommy's thoughts.

"Yeah," Ranboo agrees quietly.

"I think I can get to used to this," Tommy smiles, "Am I right, boys?"

"Fuck yeah," Tubbo grins, "Peace is very poggers." Tommy and Ranboo both laugh loudly and without, even a trace of, fear. 

Tommy looks around at his friends and family and thinks (with a truthful ring that hasn't been present in a long time) that, as long as he's with these people, he won't ever be lonely again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the story as a whole! As per usual, kudos/comments/bookmarks are always hella appreciated!
> 
> This is very bittersweet for me (and i’m sure for a lot of ya’ll as well) but this is the end of the fic! I’m really happy with this and I’ve honestly enjoyed every second of writing this story. All of your comments genuinely make every day brighter for me! I appreciate all of the support SO much! <3
> 
> If you guys want to read more from me: I have two more chaptered fics going right now and ideas for quite a few one-shots! Most of them are going to be in the ‘DreamSMP Angst And Comfort’ series, so it’s easy to find them!
> 
> I hope to see you all there, but if not, it's been lovely to have you all here!! Love you all lots! In the words of Ghostbur: Bye Bye!


End file.
